Think Like A Man
Lately, I’ve been learning that there is no substitute for family time – you have to plan it in order to have it.
I’ve rescheduled a lunch with my mom from last weekend to today, but I still haven’t got the chance to have that intimate dinner date with my dad when I suddenly got a really bad cold.
I see no point in saying out loud what I plan to do here, but what’s for sure is more time spent on relationships I value.
Until I really have done something, nothing is for sure. When it’s done, it’s then that I’m affirmed I’ve made or accomplished something. Until that happens, I feel it useless announcing anything that still rests as a figment of my current ebbing and flowing imagination.
Might as well having written none of the previous paragraphs.
I think that the writing process, which for me includes pre-writing, drafting, writing, revising, and a final revising, is like the CPU of all the new apps you downloaded into your reality, your life. Because this blog post is meant to be a stream-of-consciousness writing exercise, my brain is not primarily using logic to operate at the moment.
I know I’m just ruminating here. It’s just that today falls as a quadri-weekly Life Lately update on my calendar, which I’m thinking to discontinue immediately since you readers get nothing out of my roundabout rumination.
Gosh, I’m such a loser.
I can’t friggin’ think like a man because I know I have a flagging vajajay.
Act Like A Lady
Two years together and some more.
But sometimes, I really wish I can just disappear from the surface of the universe.
Sometimes, when I’m driving sleepy, I thought, if I get fatally hit by a car or a motor, will it still be my fault that I die? Because everything seems like I’m the one to blame. I blame myself for every friggin’ thing. It bugs me a lot that I can’t do something to change things.
When I told him that, he said, “You didn’t think of me? How do think I would feel if you’re not around?”
I’ve always assumed everyone would do fine, if not better, without me anyway. Does the existence of my physical self, through inhaling and exhaling, have to always provide value? What if sometimes I’m really a blank space? Or worse, a whole lotta mess?
If I have to choose to possess any one superpower ability, I’d choose the power to be invisible.
The only thing a woman can do while she’s alive on earth is to be the visionary, not a vision.
A woman may be subconsciously perceived as an object of male desire, but on the other hand, human beings are not made to be end-goals in the first place, but momentum-starters of myriad goals. There is no end to a living being because there are too much beginnings, too many possibilities to count. Perhaps all women should strive to have a strong will. Without her vision, men would be left without a purpose.
Then again if she does, she might at times feel she’s not worth achieving that valuable ideal. How do you esteem self-worth without feeding your ego? Is that why men tend to have bigger egos than women? So that we ladies can feed more than our own needs?
What if we are invisible? What if our caregiving deeds remain unnoticed? What if we remain quiet for the rest of our lives? What if we do the opposite and demand for attention instead? Do we automatically become labelled as an attention whore? At some point, are we ever going to get tired, so tired to care about our own selves, our own lives, and prefer to get hit by the car or the motor instead?
There is so much to care for.
Most of the time I am stoic in my present stance, but inside I’m a wreck composed of broken chords, mixed feelings, and tangled strands of thoughts all jumbled up into one rock-solid locked stance that once Stanley unlocks the key, every half-baked piece of shit will come out.
There must be some tall, invisible wall I’ve built up high and now stand so strongly, it feels real even though it’s imaginary. I’ve probably decorated its surroundings with flowers and vineyards so that, at least, this form of imprisonment is a prettier one than no adornments at all.
It’s times like these that I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.
Writing is real therapy.
But, as I said before, perhaps I’ll save Life Lately for my private diary from now on.
Look Like A Girl
Not doing so well, drastically lost most of my muscle mass.
I look like an old lady. Been eating a lot of crap lately. Not good.
Haven’t gone grocery shopping in ages. Haven’t cooked anything and it feels weird.
I smile less often than I used to.
I take myself too friggin’ seriously, that’s why this face is often frowning.
I need some makeup advice from nigahiga to get my blood pumping.
Work Like a Horse
I wish to work for my own boss, and I’m planning a specific set of workflow to compromise with her unwillingness to cooperate. Even though she’s vicious, unpredictable, shameless, perfectionistic, and tired all the time, she’s me.
You are what you think about. You are what you think about. You are what you think about. You are what you think about. You are what you think about. You are what you think about. You are what you think about. I’m muttering the words by heart. I think the words have sunk in.
I think about how money doesn’t determine the worth and value of a person. A person’s worth is determined by the person’s character.
I want peace and equality for everyone. I think I can change something but I can’t change anyone else but myself and my attitude first.
OK. ‘Nuff said. I’m rambling too much. NATO (No Action, Talk Only).
- Image courtesy of Alltop