I hope you’re all having a wonderful day. I hope you all woke up with a smile. I hope that your day has been perfectly wonderful. I hope that you’ve learnt something new. I hope that you’ve taken in all the scent mother nature has to give. I hope that you’re all happy.
I went through my memory box and old memories of you came rushing back. I sat there and wondered how our friendship drifted so far. I found the notes that we used to write to each other. I even found photos of us back in those days when we called each other best friends.
Then I went on Facebook, typed in your name and looked at the you now. Who could’ve thought huh? I haven’t been on your Facebook for a while now. And it’s been four and a half years since we last spoke to each other. Been four and a half years since I’ve told you about the events in my life. Been four and a half years since I’ve last called you best friend.
I’m afraid to say hello, because I know that there’s going to be an awkward conversation between the both of us, like the last time we spoke.
You seem happy with your life.
I still wonder what happened between us sometimes. You were the first person I trusted with all my secrets.
Many boys out there wish they could be that guy for their girlfriend. You know, the perfect guy. They wish they had a voice to sing you to sleep. They wish they had enough rhythm in their feet to dance for you. They wish they had a creative mind so they could write breath-taking letters to you. They wish they had an attractive body for you to drool over. They wish they could be like the guy in those romantic movies that say the perfect thing at the perfect time to the perfect girl. But some of us aren’t that gifted, simply because life created us just the way we are. It kills us inside that we can’t provide more for our love. But we have effort. So please love the way we sing off-pitch. Please love the way we stumble awkwardly on the dance floor. Please love the way we steal lines from Dr. Seuss. Please love the way we joke about our one-pack. Please love the way we stutter due to the butterflies. We might not be that guy in your dreams, but understand that you’re that girl in our dreams.
Many girls also want to be that perfect girl that you see on the cover of magazines. We try to dress nicely, and put on make-up just to impress you. We spray ourselves with scented perfume so you can be reminded of us when you get a whiff of the scent. We try to be sexy, be pretty enough for you to show us off to the world. We don’t want to let you down. We try to give you a good image. We mention sweet things about you. Brag about you to our girlfriends. We may be a little emotional at times, but that’s only because we care. We might not be as sexy, or curvaceous like those bikini models. And maybe sometimes eat more than enough, and we might not be as funny as you want us to be, but we have love. We don’t really ask for much, and we try to be the best we can for you. Please love the way we dress, because we only do it to impress you. Please love the way we try to make up funny jokes because we want to make you laugh and that smile spawns butterflies in our stomach. Please love the way our body is, because not every girl weighs 40kg, and has long skinny legs. Please love the way we smile, even if some of us have braces. We might not be as amazing looking as those other girls, but we can be the best we can around you. And we try, all the time. We might not be that girl in your dreams, but understand that you’re that guy in our dreams.
Today has got to be one of the dullest day I’ve ever woken up to. Starters, I knew from the second I opened my eyes that it wasn’t going to be a very good day. The sun was no where to be seen, the clouds were grey and it was cold. And then, it started to rain.
Usually, I’d be okay with days like this but everything that happened today really just got on my nerves. I do not want to talk to anyone, see anyone or even hear people’s names. I hate school today. I hate people today. And I really hate mother nature today.
I got a letter today, and I just finished reading it. I don’t know whether I feel sad or happy. I don’t know what emotions I should be feeling, or if I should even feel any at all.
I’m really tired. This is going to be a big week because assessments, tests and everything are starting, and I cannot afford to lose focus. I don’t want to deal with dramas, and don’t be offended if I brush you off.
My plate is full this week. You can hate me for a week. I’ll be okay with it.
And some people should really need to start walking faster in the fucking hall way because there are other people who really need to get to class. So save all your fucking gossips for recess or lunch. Try spitting out educational chatter rather than your latest expensive purchases.
I have gained the years, but not the wisdom. But you, you were always a bird. Not so much with those ruffled feathers or pointed feet, but with the wings and that grace. You were clumsy, a penguin, that’s right. But still with the wings. And I saw you grow from laughter to “I love you” to love-making. I only ever got those small portions, not your whole. And I’m still missing those little pieces at night.
You see, I have certainly gained the years, but not the wisdom. Instead it’s the distance, be it physically, or mentally. I miss you. I still remember who I was at the point. I was someone who asked you too many “whys?” and put up with too many of your flaws and your vices. I remember my hesitant excitement at crucial moments, my sense of calm and comfort on the rest of the time. You made me breathe heavily when I’m lying next to you, but I held half of it in, trying to keep quiet for you so it was easier to sleep. I remember every long second we spent together in bed, because I was awake for literally every one. I couldn’t sleep if you were around because that would be time wasted. So I held you tighter and grew more uncomfortable when I had less and less bed space, or when my arm was stuck under your body. I wanted nothing to do with disturbing you. And I remembered everytime I went to your room. I’d always see my gifts, all neatly placed on your table - colour and size coordinated. And a smile would always be brought upon my face whenever I look at them because as long as they’re up there, I know that you still cherish me. But what gets to me the most is that white bear you have on your bed. That bear never really made me happy. I hate that bear. Yes, I admit it. I really do. Because looking at that bear makes me angry. It makes me wanna rip it’s whole body apart and burn it.
I remember all of me, and every flower I ordered from the shops for you on Valentines Day, every index card with poetry or with “I love you” - always in uppercase that I’ve given you with all the special occasions. I only hope you weren’t as careless with me, because I certainly wasn’t that way with you. I was obsessive with letting you know how I felt. I was nervous with trying to find the words and new ways to show you that, though.
I was there to keep you safe, arms always around you’re neck, hugging you, kissing you. But you, yes you. You were always there to shorten the distance, to bridge the gap. I tried holding your hands, but only for it to be pushed away by you. The Eskimo kisses, late night phone calls, walks and all those dates those were me. Initiative and fear, however far apart those may be, those were characteristics of me that eventually came to you. I’d take back all of your vices as well as your flaws. If I could have back those few simple moments where we mirrored fingertips on sunny afternoons, laughed on ends about silly things then I would. If I remember nothing else, I’ll always remember this one thing - you made me do things I’ve never done and while I’ll always be different without you, you’ve changed parts of me that I’ll always carry.
I see this question posted with some regularity in the personals section, so I thought I’d take a minute to explain things to the ladies out there that haven’t figured it out.
What happened to all the nice guys?
The answer is simple: you did.
See, if you think back, really hard, you might vaguely remember a Platonic guy pal who always seemed to want to spend time with you. He’d tag along with you when you went shopping, stop by your place for a movie when you were lonely but didn’t feel like going out, or even sit there and hold you while you sobbed and told him about how horribly the (other) guy that you were fucking treated you.
At the time, you probably joked with your girlfriends about how he was a little puppy dog, always following you around, trying to do things to get you to pay attention to him. They probably teased you because they thought he had a crush on you. Given that his behavior was, admittedly, a little pathetic, you vehemently denied having any romantic feelings for him, and buttressed your position by claiming that you were “just friends.” Besides, he totally wasn’t your type. I mean, he was a little too short, or too bald, or too fat, or too poor, or didn’t know how to dress himself, or basically be or do any of the things that your tall, good-looking, fit, rich, stylish boyfriend at the time pulled off with such ease.
Eventually, your Platonic buddy drifted away, as your relationship with the boyfriend got more serious and spending time with this other guy was, admittedly, a little weird, if you werent dating him. More time passed, and the boyfriend eventually cheated on you, or became boring, or you realized that the things that attracted you to him weren’t the kinds of things that make for a good, long-term relationship. So, now, you’re single again, and after having tried the bar scene for several months having only encountered players and douche bags, you wonder, “What happened to all the nice guys?”
Well, once again, you did.
You ignored the nice guy. You used him for emotional intimacy without reciprocating, in kind, with physical intimacy. You laughed at his consideration and resented his devotion. You valued the aloof boyfriend more than the attentive “just-a-” friend. Eventually, he took the hint and moved on with his life. He probably came to realize, one day, that women aren’t really attracted to guys who hold doors open; or make dinners just because; or buy you a Christmas gift that you mentioned, in passing, that you really wanted five months ago; or listen when you’re upset; or hold you when you cry. He came to realize that, if he wanted a woman like you, he’d have to act more like the boyfriend that you had. He probably cleaned up his look, started making some money, and generally acted like more of an asshole than he ever wanted to be.
Fact is, now, he’s probably getting laid, and in a way, your ultimate rejection of him is to thank for that. And I’m sorry that it took the complete absence of “nice guys” in your life for you to realize that you missed them and wanted them. Most women will only have a handful of nice guys stumble into their lives, if that.
So, if you’re looking for a nice guy, here’s what you do:
Build a time machine.
Go back a few years and pull your head out of your ass.
Take a look at what’s right in front of you and grab ahold of it.
I suppose the other possibility is that you STILL don’t really want a nice guy, but you feel the social pressure to at least appear to have matured beyond your infantile taste in men. In which case, you might be in luck, because the nice guy you claim to want has, in reality, shed his nice guy mantle and is out there looking to unleash his cynicism and resentment onto someone just like you.
If you were five years younger.
So, please: either stop misrepresenting what you want, or own up to the fact that you’ve fucked yourself over. You’re getting older, after all. It’s time to excise the bullshit and deal with reality. You didn’t want a nice guy then, and he certainly doesn’t fucking want you, now.
My hair is getting so long, I feel like I should cut it but at the same time I know that I will regret this. My mind changes a lot, and I tend to do a lot of things that I will later on regret. Hair cutting is one of them. Argh!
I’m sitting here patiently waiting for my friend to come over so we can do our English essay together. Seriously, this assessment is worth 20% and I really need this! I keep procrastinating. Damn it.
Woke up with a fever today. I threw up three times. Worse feeling ever!
I always hesitate to hit you up simply because I need to feel wanted by you. I know if you miss me, you would be the first to start a conversation. When we’re not talking, you have no idea how much I think of you but I don’t want to become a bother, so I just hold in that gusty feeling. I honestly do hate experiencing the wait. Sometimes I wish I could just get a glance of your mind, to see if you feel the same.
They say “eyes are the windows to the soul”… Your eyes have the ability to show much more of a person than through speech or actions. Just through their eyes you can tell if they are angry, or sad, or confused, or grateful, or happy, or scared… Have you ever just looked at someone right in the eyes and know that something is not right? Have you ever been FREAKED OUT by the pupils and whites of a scary monster? Have you ever seen the overpouring joy of kids when they show their crinkled nose as they peak over the bench they’re hiding behind? Have you ever… fallen for someone because of their dreamy gaze? Have you ever been intimidated by markers who squint to the point where their eyes turn into slits? Have you ever just stared at your friends and without saying a word you both just start to crack up? Have you ever come across a timid kid who sits in the corner that occassionally gives glances? Have you ever seen someone smile but the eyes says something else? Have you ever seen sad eyes?
Imagine not having the ability to see these characteristics of a person. Now, tell me how lost you would be.
something that we loved becomes broken, it doesn’t mean that we’re not eligible to be happy and or in love, it just means that it takes a few failed relationships to finally find the right person for us. When all those guys that you tried to love break you heart, the one for you will be there. When all those potential dates fall out, look for the guy that was always trying to make you smile. Look for the one who was always by your side when things got rough. When you finally realize that the guys you are attracted to aren’t the guys that you want to tell everything to, send him a text message, he’ll be waiting, I promise. Now is when your life beings, your ability to learn from the past, your determination to find someone who will truly cares about you. <3
WHERE WOULD YOU MOST LIKE TO VISIT ON YOUR PLANET?
I want to answer “Italy” or “France” but then I suddenly remembered a place that I miss the most. I really want to visit my home town, Cambodia. Not the place I currently live at, but the place where I grew up, in the country side.
I miss my friends there because I remember always running down to the lake with them at 6 o’clock just before the sunset, and go fishing. I remember getting bitten by leeches, and running home crying to my mum about my pain. I was only 5, yet it felt like a million years away.
I also had a pet Goanna and he was really fat. He lived in this hole at corner of my house. My mum would always leave our leftover rice there and sometimes I would see him come out and eat it. I still wonder whatever happened to him.
I don’t know who they are anymore or where they live now. I don’t remember their faces, or their names. But I do remember this one particular boy… who I was quite fond off. He took my first cheek kiss. Young love. Haha.
My home town is now a wreck. Buildings have fallen, and my house is now in pieces. Only the walls are still up.
I want to show my kids the place I grew up one day. Hopefully it won’t be too late.
I’d tell you that I haven’t been in the state of unhappiness for this long before. I’ve been finding faults in everything that surrounds me and my own reflection does more harm than good. If you asked me, I’d tell you that I’m hurting and sometimes, I just want a friend who will listen without having their own hidden agendas. If you asked me, the less I care, the more I hurt. I don’t know how that works. The less I think, the less it all makes sense to me, and the more I become angry at the fact that it is the way it is. Adele’s Chasing Pavements came on and I couldn’t pick another song to suit my current thoughts.
If you asked me, I’d tell you that I want to be happy. My goodness do I want to be happy like everyone else. It seems like people all have this fire that has been fueled so passionately within their hearts, whether it is a significant other, an accomplishment, or who knows what. I thought I had that, too. I thought that I reached the point of contentment with where I am and if you asked me, I’d lie about it. Maybe after telling people that I’m happy a few times, I thought I could convince myself that it was true.
If you asked me, I’d tell you that I’ve never felt this alone before. Days like this, I sit in my dark room and my tears are guided with the music coming from my laptop. I should be happy and I want to be. That desire, that need of happiness, it fucking burns. It’s like no matter where I am, who accompanies my side, I am still alone. No one quite gets it and no one cares to ask.
When your significant other is hanging out with another guy/girl, and they start to wish that ‘you’ were more like him/her, then I guess that’s when a hole in a relationship starts to form.
I was just talking to a friend last night about his relationship and how tangled up it is. There were a lot of problems revolving around his girlfriend, and he had blamed her for almost everything she did. (Well, to me it seemed like he did.) At the end of the night, I kind of lost track of what he was talking about in the first place.
What I picked up was a lot of loops and a few silly things that happened between them. To me, it honestly didn’t seem like her fault entirely. I mean, he was blaming her for not trying to ‘hang’ out with him when he’s always out with his other friends especially when they consist of three girls and one guy, and one of the girls is his bestfriend.
He said he spent quite a lot of time talking to her, telling her everything, and she would always be the “shoulder” that he leans on.
Now, that’s where the hole starts to form.
Do you really think that your girlfriend, the one who made you angry and is probably also angry at you, would be able to be the shoulder for you to lean on when YOU are the problem? Well, no fucking shit she can’t always be there for you when the problem IS you.
PLEASE stop complaining about how you wish your girlfriend is more like your bestfriend. It annoys me to hear this because I know that your girlfriend is such a wonderful person. (And your best friend is annoying. There, I said it.)
Sometimes people have to realise that there will be times when your significant other can’t be there for you. There are times when you just simply can’t lean on their shoulder. Why? Simply because they are the problem, and you’re just going to walk straight into a bigger fire. It just doesn’t work that way.
I think it’s sad when someone compares their significant other to their ‘friend’ that they’re leaning on; wishing that their other was more ‘fun’, more ‘out-going’ and more ‘understanding’. Do you have any common sense? It’s because of the misunderstanding that has separated you two.
If you were out til’ 5AM in the morning with your bestfriend, having the time of your life, and then you suddenly just wish that your ‘girlfriend’ is more like them, then that’s when a hole really starts to form. If you really did honestly love your girlfriend, you wouldn’t have to wish that someone else was them. Heck, you wouldn’t even have to think about it in the first place.
Its okay to wish that your girlfriend was there with you, but it’s never okay to wish that they were like your bestfriend.
It defeats the purpose of why you fell in love with them in the first place. And if you want your girlfriend to be more like your bestfriend, then break up and date your damn (annoying) bestfriend!
r0b0h: When you talk, I listen. When you cry, I’m there to hold you, when you’re angry, I’m there for you to complain. When you’re happy, I’m there to be happy with you. Now a days so called “friends” treat you like a resource instead of a friend. A friend is suppose to be there for you when you’re sad and happy. When I’m happy and I tell somebody why I’m happy, they almost never seem excited for me, or they bring me down. What friend doesn’t enjoy your happiness? I love seeing my friends happy, and in fact I send my friends random text messages telling them how happy I am to have them in my life, and it always makes their day brighter. I love my friends, and I don’t treat them like pets or resources, I treat them the I would want to be treated; with sarcasm and jokes, but seriousness and empathy when needed.
I’ve always been an independent self-contained individual. Ever since I was young, I’ve always sat by myself even in class rooms when all of the other kids are laughing and mucking around.
I like being by myself most of the time. I like to be alone, and do what I want without anyone else pestering me. When I go on a train ride, I like to sit next to the window by myself. I don’t always like big crowds because it makes me feel uneasy sometimes.
I seclude myself on purpose. I don’t do it so people can feel sorry for me. People take it the wrong way, like me wanting attention. No, it’s nothing like that.
You see, if you ever take the time of the day to just isolate yourself and observe what is around you then you’d understand how wonderful solitude can be.
Solitude has a whole new world of meaning and colours when you observe. Your stream of consciousness will drift off into an amazing expedition. Your emotions will tangle up and once in a while you might come across the bad memories but don’t worry, there are also the good ones.
Solitude will make you smile without realizing how happy you are, even for a second. It will allow you to understand the importance of companionship and devotion.
Solitude isn’t just a miserable feeling, it can also be a pleasant sentiment.
It kinda shocks me how people can sometimes see through my mask. I think I might’ve not tried hard enough to act as if everything is glowing and that the rainbow is above me, or maybe I’ve tried too hard and my smile may have been too forced. They say “Hi” and I happily reply ”Hi” but then they do a double take and look right at me. I smile. They frown. It was as though they were looking right through me, right through the windows of my pupils, up and down all around to find whatever it is that’s making me … ‘different’.
“Is everything okay?” in the softest voice. “Yes” but the answer is no. Who am I to complain and make a scene? Wouldn’t want to waste any of their time when they could have a nice calm lunch.
I am fine. I was fine. Felt such comfort when they knew when I did not tell, when I said I was okay but their frown says they know that’s not the correct answer. It’s comforting that … they know me.
It’s gradually getting more difficult for me to stay composed lately. The ‘breaking point’ and ‘all is well’ mark is so close that one wrong move can make everything collaspe.
Sometimes I will want to cry, because falling to the bottom of the pit may be the only way out. Sometimes… I will cry, so you have to be there, okay? You will have to tell me funny stories afterwards so I can be reminded of the brigther side of the scenery. You will have to just sit there while I catch my breath. You will have to remind me that I can do it and that in times like these I will have to put myself first. You will just have to be present so I know where you are and so I can sit next to you … so I can cry. So I can be assured that you know what, why and how.
So when times in need…then I can play your role when you play mine.
I find that having someone that you can tell everything to really makes life a lot easier. Having that one person that sits there and listen to all your damn troubles really does put that cherry on top of a bad day. And even if they don’t say anything in return, at least you know someone out there listens.
There will be a lot of days where I will sit there in silence and stare at you with a million thoughts running through my mind. There will be times when I want to punch you, and scream at you and even run away from you. I will occasionally get angry at every little thing you do, and blame it all on you. One day, things will build up to its greatest extent and I will probably crack under pressure.
But within all those bi-polar moods, I just want to say that I hope you’ll be there to catch me. I hope that you will be right there beside me, holding me, reassuring me that everything will be okay even if I’ve hurt you a million times before. I want you to tell me that I’m beautiful, that there will always be evil in this world, but at the same time there are also sunshine and daisies…
I see all these girls in Tumblr talking about their weight, picking out their flaws and wishing the 10kg on their thighs would disappear. They make goal lists, consisting of “loose 5kg by next week”, “skip 2 meals at least twice a week” and “get gym membership and go there at least 4 times a week”.
I don’t get it. I just don’t understand why you guys try so hard, and using wrong methods to become skinny? Being skinny isn’t all that, and being fat isn’t all that either. There shouldn’t be any differences between people who are over-weight and those who are under-weight. Everyone is the same. Why do society cast out the “fat” girls, who have extremely beautiful personalities and accept those skinny, fake, bitchy ones?
It sometimes saddens me to read some girl’s blog, stating that they want to be skinny, or as beautiful as the other girls.
Do you really think that telling me that you’ve moved on would make our friendship any better? Telling me that you’ve started seeing someone else makes me feel happy for you? Do you think that telling me how beautiful, how great she is and how happy she makes you feel actually make me jealous?
No. I’m only happy for you. I’m sure she’s great. I’m sure she’ll treat you right.
You were never anything more than affection to me.
you're really fucking ignorant, aren't you? i know you're gonna hit me back with a 'you don't even know me,' but i swear to god woman! you should stop putting up fucking barriers to block people from getting close to you and stop being so cold.
I don’t usually publish questions asked by people but you really have great timing, because I’m having a bad day today, and you just topped it.
But no, I wasn’t going to hit you back with a “you don’t even know me” because I rarely get people telling me things about myself. I’m quite detached from a lot of people most of the time because I’m selfish and I like to keep to myself a lot. But since you mentioned it, then “you don’t even know me.”
I don’t even get why it matters to you, seeing as it’s my decision what I do. Unless you’re one of those people that I pushed away then I just want to say that there must have been a legitimate reason as to why I did it and I’m not sorry. I ain’t going to apologise for something I did intentionally. Like it or not, I don’t give a fuck.
And I don’t put up “barriers”. I just don’t show myself often. I don’t go around telling everyone about my fucking feelings. I only have a close friend that I can tell every single fucking thing to, and her name is ANNIE DANG. I don’t put up “fucking barriers”, it’s because I DON’T WANT TO get close to people.
If it bothers you so fucking much that I put up barriers then get the fuck out of my life. You’re probably not even that important to me. I don’t need another one of you anonymous cunts telling me how ignorant I am for “putting up barriers”. Cry me a fucking river.
Currently sitting here listening to Asleep by The Smiths.
This song’s given me all these hibby jibbies. My mind is feeling quite heavy today. There have been so many times that my anger and frustration was tested. When I say tested, I really mean being put on the edge of a cliff kind of thing. My mind was on the verge of just exploding seeing as every single little thing infuriated me today.
I sense another stream of consciousness coming my way.
Taking half naked photos of yourself, and in every single photo you are tensing to show your abs. I don’t believe that you look THAT GOOD 24/7.
Reposting photos of “hot” girls, mostly consisting of almost naked/half naked/naked ones. It turns me off even more. I know it’s normal that a guy looks at girls, but it really just annoys me when I see 3 pages of re-blogs on those girls.
Complaining about their girlfriend being bitches and flirting with other guys. Well, why don’t you just dump her bitch-ass?
Bagging out the other guy on one of your posts.
On some guy’s Tumblr, I see their following list and it mostly consists of “pretty” looking girls. So “okay” looking ones aren’t good enough to be on your following list?
What I find strange about our human race is that we tend to be more polite to strangers on the street rather than our loved ones.
Why is it that when we bump into someone on the streets by accident, our immediate reaction would be to apologise with a smile upon our faces but when we hurt our loved ones, we tend to be stubborn and refuse to apologise.
Why is it that a stranger demands more respect than those we care for?
The answer would have been no. I did not want to talk to you; I did not want to ask you about your opinion and what you wanted to do because to me it feels like it’s my future on the line. I don’t want to sound like a bad friend, but at this time of the year I really need to be selfish. Ofcorse I care about you. Terribly, I admit. But at the end of the day, when it comes down to decisions like these, I’d choose myself over anyone. I know it’s a little selfish and unusual of me but you have to understand that I didn’t do it for myself. I did it for her. She is – on some level – my pride and – some days – joy.
But in life you have to take lots of decisions and if you don’t take decisions you would never do anything because you would spend all your time choosing between things you could do. So it is good to have a reason why you hate some things and you like others.
I sat there quietly listening to the on going conversations behind me while I copy down the work written on the blackboard.
I could recognise every voice and heard every single conversations going on between everybody. Then suddenly I started to think about how your voice used to be the only one I could hear and how my heart used to skip a beat everytime you opened your mouth. Your voice used to soothe my ears, especially when you called my name. I would always tune out all of the other surrounding sounds and isolate yours so I could listen to every words and every syllables that came out of your mouth.
But now, you are just a speck of dust to me. You don’t exist to me anymore. You no longer play a role in my life. Your presence is a ghost and I can’t be bothered to look at you.