Showing posts with label bitchslap. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bitchslap. Show all posts

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Polymers

So I've been thinking. If blogging is one way of expressing ourselves, then why do we tend to hide from life itself? The joys of blogging freely is delightful, unless your grand motive for blogging is causing trouble and hurt.

I write what I feel, I say what I wanna say. And, if it kills me, I'm fine with it. I stand by my words. I don't like hurting people's feelings without their consent, because that's my brand of humor and wit.

I don't hide, I stopped hiding. I've got tons to lose, but I don't care. I man up and face the consequences of whatever I put up on my blog.

People are so plastic nowadays; I call it being a "retard." No offense.

It's just that I don't like wearing poly-blends, I only wear 100% cotton.

P.S. Drama never suits me, I'll just get all ugly and that. I'd let karma work its magic.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Insensitivity

While I was eating dinner earlier, I got a text telling me that one of my super favorite teachers from high school had passed away. My heart sank and I couldn’t finish dinner.

I got so anxious I went on facebook to check on my classmates. Apparently, the said teacher was still alive but fighting for dear life. My grief still wasn’t relieved; to hear that you’re favorite teacher is already very ill is a little better than hearing her die. But, the point is, she is still on the brink of meeting her creator.

She was one of the few faculty members who supported our budding chorale group when I was still in high school. I wasn’t sure if it was just because she was a religion teacher or if she really did love our choir; I don’t care, she was there when we needed support and we are eternally grateful for that.

Ironically, when I was at work today, I was singing my favorite chorale piece: The Prayer of St. Francis. I remember that she also loved our group’s rendition of that song.

Was it a sign that she might be going through it all already?

I don’t know, but I do care. There’s this feeling of worry and sadness just digging in my innards. I really loved her gentleness and exuberance. I miss her and if ever the rumors were true, I would’ve cried tonight.

Then I realized, is it always necessary for someone to get terminally ill or dying to get my attention? Have I gone so insensitive, that I never cared catching up with my high school friends or teachers? Something must be wrong and I cannot blame anyone or myself.

Il signore, mirende uno strumento de la vostra pace…
Lord, make me. Make me an instrument of your peace…

- Prayer of St. Francis.

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Scully Doesn't Know


Just because people like your posts, doesn’t mean you’re a genius. It just means you sound and seem like one, but in fact, there is no depth in your character. You’re as shallow as your posts are. Sad truth babydoll. You’ll never be a real blogger. I’ve seen more interesting pieces from 14 year-old girls.

Sincerely yours,
Your friendly neighborhood hipster.

XOXO