I just got slapped in the face by the hand of disesteem, and let me be the first to say I did not like it.
I caught myself sitting in a glass house throwing stones, something that from a metaphorical-I'm-reflecting-on-the-subject-stance-now seems rather ludicrous (not the rapper). I realized that I'm a huge hypocrite when it comes to certain things. For example, I feel that I can have the last cookie and you cant, it's a-o-k for me to recite commercials word for word and it not be a sign of laziness, or the fact that my room's allowed to be disorganized and yours isn't.
When this ignorant thinking became exposed, my stomach fell - just like when you're on a roller coaster and keep your eyes closed right before and during a drop, it's that same feeling (but I don't particularly like this source of adrenalin). There is a good thing that comes out of it, though. Actually, two positive things: the first, I know how being buddy buddy with guy friends looks and feels to another person, the second, I need to have more self confidence. The latter is just for my own referential purpose, really, but I now know what I need to focus on and what not to.
My hormones are out of wack, so possibly this has something to do with my current mentality (get it? Men-tality). I'm happy, you're happy (right?), everyone's happy - so we should take the drops as they come, eye's closed and all. Be that as it may, life wouldn't be worth the ride without them.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Sunny Delight Earns D Grade.
"I was born with an enormous need for affection, and a terrible need to give it."
I haven't written in awhile, but let me tell you why.
There's nothing like a good glass of orange juice. The taste, the aroma, and joyously throwing the peels down the garbage disposal - it can't be beat. However, when something is lost out of that substance, like the pulp (which is undoubtedly the best part) (that's not up for discussion), the glass almost instantaneously appears half empty, and certainly lacking in a proper serving of vitamin c. Without this pulp, one could infer that the simple reminder of mother nature has been removed from the processed, frozen, popped out of a can fruit concentrate. In the same way, I've lost my words, or at least the essence behind them.
And you know who I have to blame for this malnutrition? My mother.
Driving home from class tonight I began thinking why certain things happen. I also double checked my image in the mirror to see if there were giant letters spelling out "screw me, please" on my forehead. Then it hit me - I know exactly where it comes from. My ma has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever graced these past 20 years; she consistently gives and gives and gives, never expecting a token in return. She hardly complains, and when she does it's framed in such a way to sympathize with others (whether she realizes it or not). She forgives, she's thoughtful, and continually strives to cure all wounds - e
specially those that can't be seen. I feel for other maternal figures that know her, because surely there's some envy at her mothering skills. Yes, I'm biased, but don't let that fool you. This, then, is where the applied analysis comes into effect.
However much I don't want to care, however much I don't want to give simply doesn't matter. Period. It's like someone decides to take a machete to my insides, tearing me up because I want to, I have to - this emotional mindset has been ingrained within myself from the very beginning, and I'm afraid a reverse-conditioning process would be of no use. This further goes to supplant the notion of unconditionality. Whether you beat me down, like to take me for a ride, or pull the silent treatment card, I let you. And you know why I let you? The same reason my mom puts up with my pent up aggression. The same reason she continues to accept me for who I am. The same reason she routinely shows her love for me whether I deserve it or not.
Maybe it's because we like to see the good in individuals. Or maybe, its the simple the fact that we like to see people content, even at the cost of our own egos.
And it absolutely kills me.
CourtReplies
I haven't written in awhile, but let me tell you why.
There's nothing like a good glass of orange juice. The taste, the aroma, and joyously throwing the peels down the garbage disposal - it can't be beat. However, when something is lost out of that substance, like the pulp (which is undoubtedly the best part) (that's not up for discussion), the glass almost instantaneously appears half empty, and certainly lacking in a proper serving of vitamin c. Without this pulp, one could infer that the simple reminder of mother nature has been removed from the processed, frozen, popped out of a can fruit concentrate. In the same way, I've lost my words, or at least the essence behind them.
And you know who I have to blame for this malnutrition? My mother.
Driving home from class tonight I began thinking why certain things happen. I also double checked my image in the mirror to see if there were giant letters spelling out "screw me, please" on my forehead. Then it hit me - I know exactly where it comes from. My ma has the biggest heart of anyone I have ever graced these past 20 years; she consistently gives and gives and gives, never expecting a token in return. She hardly complains, and when she does it's framed in such a way to sympathize with others (whether she realizes it or not). She forgives, she's thoughtful, and continually strives to cure all wounds - e
specially those that can't be seen. I feel for other maternal figures that know her, because surely there's some envy at her mothering skills. Yes, I'm biased, but don't let that fool you. This, then, is where the applied analysis comes into effect.However much I don't want to care, however much I don't want to give simply doesn't matter. Period. It's like someone decides to take a machete to my insides, tearing me up because I want to, I have to - this emotional mindset has been ingrained within myself from the very beginning, and I'm afraid a reverse-conditioning process would be of no use. This further goes to supplant the notion of unconditionality. Whether you beat me down, like to take me for a ride, or pull the silent treatment card, I let you. And you know why I let you? The same reason my mom puts up with my pent up aggression. The same reason she continues to accept me for who I am. The same reason she routinely shows her love for me whether I deserve it or not.
Maybe it's because we like to see the good in individuals. Or maybe, its the simple the fact that we like to see people content, even at the cost of our own egos.
And it absolutely kills me.
CourtReplies
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