SICK PEOPLE IN A SICK WORLD

People make mistakes.

They are not gods, they are humans. Mistakes, thus, are one of the things that make humans a man. Its quite logical how we come to be what we are, mistakes, on the other hand teaches us how to be strong and better. There is nothing to learn from perfection, it is through failure that one can become what he needs to become.

Peolple make mistakes, but blaming others out of your mistakes is a different story.

I noticed that as humans make mistakes they are also capable of making other things. They were capable of blaming others out of their own insufficiency. Certain ones have this sickening tendency of finding fault in you so they may prove to themselves that you are not as good as it seems to be. They will, in many situations, try to put you down so they "can" feel good about themselves. As if finding your imperfections will make them rich and famous or make them a nominee for the Oscar's award.

People do that. That's one of the things that make them humans.


How tragic are the substances we are made of.

THEY FAILED ME

For the sake of the people around me I have tried my best to remain in this place for almost everyday. Fortunately, the odds had always been in my favor. I am quite a survivor for a month now.

I have hated the situation before, but through the loving guidance of my Lord and my family (who solely receives the good art of my first compensation) I realized that things do happened for our own good.

The sad part is that I have noticed things to be, well, boring. The people with whom I spend my working hours were all common. They, in every way offers boring conversations. The topics discussed in the office were all in routine. I feel like Im in a never ending state of assisting and taking blood pressure of the clients whose lives I cannot touch and stories, after listening to, were not worth a space in my memory. I was just walking home one night and all of a sudden a whisper from what I want to consider my old self made me realize that I become the very person I always swear I wouldn't be.




Things failed to fascinate me and I don't know how long this horror will last.

I have to keep writing though. Not for anyone now. For myself. So that I wouldn't be like them who just passes time.

Im in a new mission. To keep myself in a world where everyone is trying to make you one of them.

INSULTS TO MY DENSENESS

"Great minds discuss ideas.
Average minds discuss events.
Small minds discuss people."
-Eleonor Roosevelt



Even Eleonor can tell that based on my daily conversation with people, I, the great Allyssa the strange, the dreamer, the weird and the eternally curious now belongs to the group of people she had called small minded. *sighs heavily* I always hate small talk but in order to belong I can now write a book on "How To Be Good In Small Talks".

But because Im different, after two weeks of trying to be what others are, I've implemented a "no speaking policy for three days" as a self-punishment.

As someone who had been financially dependent to my parents, working means being in an environment that offers great adjustments and many uncomfortabilities. I expected them, understanding that it was a way to grow and to become a better version of myself. Man, what I didn't expect is that I'll be with people--small friggin' idiots.

It all started this last few weeks.Because of my constant search for a job I've been surrounded by different people. People I don't want to know personally. People who thinks they knew everything just because they were five years or more older than me.
What a crap indeed. Its pure shit to have a conversation with them everyday. I can't even find the right words that would totally describe their innate stupidities. I can't believe how adults manage to survive years of working within an environment where conversations consist mostly of people, foods, clothes, people, foods and people. (The last sentence passed the most careful assessment thus, declared free from any typographical error)


Examples:
1. My ___! have you heard what happen to her? Im gonna die, I swear, she and him slept together last night!

2. Im so fat. I don't want to eat anything, but Im hungry. Hey! will you buy me a caesar salad? Oh its not enough, add it up with Piatoos, milk tea, sprite float and three cinnamon breads.

3. Have you seen her outfit today. It's ugly. Does she really think she's pretty? (laugh out loud)

4. Girl, Im at Krabby Patty yesterday. Goodness! the burgers are delicious. It cost a little so I make sure I post it on Facebook before munching. The price is worth the likes.


Each day Im outside, with them on the place I want to work, I come to dread the moment they're gonna open their mouth because I can feel my IQ slipping down and I swear if I can only see my neurons getting sick I will declare an epidemic outbreak.



I realize now how cruel this extroverts-dominated world is for us introverts.

All Im trying to say is is, if being an adult means talking about your so-called friends behind their backs, criticizing others clothing type, laughing at your co-workers silently as they accidentally shame themselves in front of their bosses, analyzing every 20 minutes how handsome a guy is especially when he's naked and talking endlessly of how you want to be treated but does the opposite to another, then bl**dy h*ll! I DON'T WANT TO BE AN ADULT ANYMORE!


Why do I have to live like this?

Im already feeling a sense of envy for those humans who live on mountains, at the Atlantic ocean; the rare tribes that secretly thrive for thousands of years away from technology and money. Yes, they were considered poor, uneducated, ill-mannered and uncivilized (excuse me for the words) but they have what, we, educated and civilized does not have, or if some do they can only be counted in one hand---freedom. They are the ones who truly lived a life, some of us are just here to be counted as a population. *puffs*

Can someone explain to me again why we need so much money when all the things in life that makes us homo sapiens happy are priceless?

Back to the topic of the people around me.

I think I should be thankful that their low intelligence and lack of holy curiosity were not infectious diseases.

LOL.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY

She turns sixteen today. 9th of March. I remember her being the only one in the family who's excited about upcoming birthdays. She loves giving each of us a handmade birthday cards when its our birthday and when its hers, she never fails to remind us that she expects us to give her something. Its odd, because I still remember how we celebrates her birthday for those thirteen years. The memories were still clear as crystal. I remember giving her a stuff toy when she turns twelve, she named it twelve and I promised her then that there will always be a stuff toy every March 9 which she can name based on her age. I never have imagined that she can only hold two stuff toys.

I keep my promise until now. I had Sixteen for her as a gift.

What will she look like if she was here? Will she resembles my features? Will her voice change? Will her hair be still long or short? Will her skin be more fair or dark? What kind of stuff toy will she request me for? How many slices of cake can she eat?

The answers, I will never know. It has been taken away from me three years ago.

I don't want to cry. I'm so tired of being so emotional, but today when I was beside that small piece of earth that keep her physical body away from us, I had let my heart out. I shed tears, this time not from pain, but from the gratitude of having known her. I feel so special at that very moment, of all the years I had, of all the years I will always be grateful to had. Man, she was the most wonderful gift I ever treasured.


And up until that moment I was convince more than ever that I will never say goodbye.





















After all, I never had any intentions of moving on.

BEAUTIFUL WORDS

"The mind of a writer can be a truly terrifying thing: isolated, neurotic, caffeine-addled, crippled by procrastination and consumed by feelings of panic, self-loathing and soul-crushing inadequacy. And that's on a good day."

I wonder how these people were able to put the exact feelings I feel into words. I've learned to accept somehow that there were feelings one may feel that has no equivalent in words, for putting those emotions into words would betray the feeling and the essence of it. Im just glad that Im weird (laughs silently while writing this).

"You had to take risks, follow some path and abandon others. No one can make a choice without feeling afraid."
-Paulo Coelho, Brida

STICKING TO THE STATUS QUO

Problem:

I have spent this last five days struggling over my long time dreams and the fact of who I am now. Well, this long time dreams basically consist of me being a musician and a published author while the fact that I am now a registered nurse were just like two opposing forces.

Registered nurses should take the path of developing your career: getting yourself a two or more graduate courses, work abroad, be a member of different organizations and help the profession to grow. But as you already know me by my posts now, I always want more.

I never consider myself as Jill of all trades. I guess Im just having a difficult time now because I've been raise in a culture that teach people to live and think inside the box instead of having and dreaming lives larger than life itself. Maybe its the reason why some of my people feel afraid of taking paths unknown to them.

"What if it does not work?"
"If I take it, what if its not comfortable?"
"What if people reject me because Im not born for it?"

The what ifs. I just hated them. Walking an unknown path can be very scary but what if its worth it?

Resolution:

Its clear to me now, if I want something, I should get it myself. After all, no one else can walk the road Im destined to travel at. I don't want to be comfortable. Comfortable people does not have a space in history. I decided now that I will innovate myself, if I fail, I have a lesson learned but if I win I will be happy. So much for a deviant. Darn.

SENTIMENTAL FOOL

He was my type. Tall, lean, moreno, and mysterious. He belongs to the society I have spent five years to be at. I still remember the day I laid my eyes on him and I thought he came from the same world I always try to deny myself from. I had admired him. His thoughts, the way he try to build a wall for himself, the excitement of penetrating that wall and seeing him from the inside, that hope of falling inlove and being loved which I thought I can have a taste of---- man, I was wrong, as usual when it comes to guys.

I never expected anything from him. I had learned not to expect anything from anyone through hard ways. Maybe I just thought that after those long enduring years of keeping myself I finally found someone who.......

He was not what I think of him at all. He's the typical guy who longs for love yet too reluctant to give his heart to someone else. He's not different as I imagine he is. He doesn't know his worth that's why he settles for physical pleasure rather than finding that one true love that will try to burn every fiber of his being. To make this long nonsensical story of mine short, I find him just like them--a sentimental fool, who thinks he had seen enough of this world but doesn't really know anything.

"I told you, no matter how far you go, you will never escape the fact that you will always be alone."

This is all my fault. I have let myself go to the place I am forbidden. I'm just fortunate I can still get myself back.