Saturday, June 2, 2012

No, I'm Not Making Excuses Why I'm Such a B*tch

Let me tell you something about me. Well a couple of things really. Growing up wasn't really easy. I was shy, painfully most times. I mumbled through conversations, hardly mingled with anyone, sat behind during classes (well, that's mainly because of my early growth spurt, I was a whopping 5'5 at 13).

I can honestly say I did not have many friends until I was about 10. I remember cause that was the year I discovered I was good in science and everyone was at awe at how out of nowhere, I was topping the class in something. And in something worthwhile at that. It was also the year that I realized that I'm probably never gonna win a beauty contest anytime soon (well, not in this life at least. Not that I believe in reincarnation... before anyone starts throwing rocks to my head) I was gonna win people through brains and personality. Then I discovered I had a knack for writing and I could express myself best when I had a pen and paper and some quiet alone time. 
Some things still have not changed, as you can see.

As for having a personality, well, years of having not-so-nice things being said to you, you tend develop a defense mechanism. And humor is a defense mechanism. 
Damn, I should've learned kung fu instead.

I'm 21 now, (begrudgingly) turning 22 this August and even after I left those awkward, approval seeking adolescent years, I can't help but sometimes feel like I'm thrusted back to those days of horrid bitching, backstabbing and distrust that plagued me. To say that I came out unscathed would be untrue, I still have the self esteem of a leper. But hey, that's basically the life story of anyone who's been through high school.

But what still leaves me swimming in disbelief is how even after I thought I've seen everything, every terrible trait a person could possibly have, I'm blown away with yet another undiscovered rancid human attribute. I thought the universe worked in two ways; good begets good while bad gets the living crap kicked out of them. So basically, I was taught that if you were nice to people, helped them out in a time of need, you'll live and die happy. Oh boy, how screwed up was that life lesson.

No actually. Good does not begets more good. What it does is basically brand you with a smoldering mark that says;

Please come take advantage of me. 
I have a head you can walk on, a back you can stab and a face you can spit on. 

The couple few with some shred of compassion won't abide to this sign and would actually reciprocate any kind gestures you might show. They're called 'friends' or 'people whom you would skip in case of a killing spree' However there are those marginally few people, who even despite you've dutifully showed a world of kindness to, will take a gun and shoot your faith in humanity point blank, leaving it to die. 

At 21 (going on 22, god damn it) I'm not exactly a person you would picture on a rocking chair on a porch, moaning about the good old days and giving words of advice to passing children. But if I may, I want to say this: 

Learn to say no. Remember when to put your foot down. And the two best words you'll ever learn are 'f*ck off' 

Nothing good can come from being 'too' anything. Too much sugar, diabetes. Too much salt, hypertension. Too much cocaine, overdose (well, a little cocaine is bad as well. Just scratch that cocaine bit) 

We just have to accept that there are people out there will only be around when it's convenient for them and when you actually need help, they're nowhere to be found. We call them 'fair weather friends'. Well, they call it that, I much prefer the terse and sweet term 'assholes' Some even might suffer extreme amnesia, forgetting all the things you've done for them, the moment the opportunity for their own happiness comes around. Which makes sense if you ask me, why give a shit when you don't have to?

I know people like that. They're everywhere. Some closer than others. 

So we can either be the bigger person and let it slide, letting them have the satisfaction of being petty. Or we can let it affect us, allowing them to drag us down, so that they can won't feel so lonely in the bottom pile. 

Or you could just resort to violence.

I guess I can 'accidentally' knock someone over with a car, 'accidentally' back up 3-4 times and 'accidentally' making sure their faces are absolutely unrecognizable. 
Yes, that sounds like a plan.

*A shout out to the girl on Facebook who sent me a lovely email telling me she loves reading my blog. Honestly, I forgot how much I loved writing. So thank you for giving the push. This one is dedicated to you :)*

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