This is me - Not "Camp Rock"-style

If you really want to read this, adjust your screen font type aka press Ctrl and "+". Here goes another random stream of consciousness blahg post.

If reading this seems like a tedious, pointless waste them skip to the bottom where you can view the results of my current nerd phase.

I've made my share of mistakes, but experience has taught me to turn all these regrets into empowerment for my future endeavors. We live and we learn, right? But is this just talk and not action? I think so. I'm just as fragile as the starry-eyed 9 year old girl I was ten years ago.

So sideways, I'll run to that shining beacon in the distance, I'll fall on the floor, get trampled on, but I'll get up, trudge on blindly, and unleash a healthy can of whoopass on anyone who tries to stop me...What in the world? Who does this? Superwoman? A deaf and dumb dimwit with a juicy steak as his guiding light?

Some authoritative article told me that the top entrepreneurs with the highest salary had a 1.9 GPA average in college, I call that wasting your education..aka dimwitted...and yet each of them gets his juicy steak. And yet, a hardworking girl whose self-respect is deteriorating from the lack of respect given to her, is heading toward a path of destruction.

Respect is not earned, nor should it be expected, it's a conditional, frictional, sonuva-b, that keeps me in a cycle of defensiveness, the superficially thickened exterior duking it out with my traditional principle of "saving face".

People can respect you on certain terms, that change, all the frickin time. I can't live for other people, but I need to feel respected or maybe in a way..."accepted". Ew, I digress, this is not high school "pubescent angst".

I'd like to think I'll stay happy, I'll stay young, but I can't stop change. It's undeniable. The inevitabilities of the world, the elevated awareness that follows me everywhere I go, is like a ball-and-chain, slowly draining me of optimism, keeping me from exerting my full potential.

I'm not always Plath-like, or emo (for lack of a better word)...looking at old pictures made me realize how quickly I've changed, but no change has stayed permanent, and it seems more like I've been assuming roles that didn't suit me, but I so wanted to be that person, thinking once I put on the chicken costume, I'll find my true happiness.

No, instead, I just felt silly, awkward, as if I was living in someone else's skin. And when someone criticized me in those moments, it was an frustrating out of body experience. I could not explain myself, cuz I couldn't recite anything beyond the cliche that I had rehearsed as part of the "act".

Folk music is now my sweet remedy. It takes me back to the past when things were simple, and makes me believe I am in my own skin, that I know myself better than the next person.

But take out the earphones, and I'm mad. Mad at the criticisms I didn't deserve, because frankly, I didn't learn to be a better person from these people. I learned to loathe and harness ill will for people who killed my pride and for things I couldn't control. Suddenly the phrase "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" is my reality.

Maybe it's easy for you to forget, "not care" or "be strong", but frankly that's the benefit of being naturally ignorant, you roll with the punches, you swallow thumbtacks with a smile, you're almost born without emotional nerve endings, but I have too many of those and I'd gladly donate a few to you. Like I've told my grandpa, when he lectures me on the very opposite of survival tactics in Western society: I'd rather be blind. It's better to see the world through cloudy lenses where everything is hazy and glorified, than to live with the painful disappointment of clarity. Blissful ignorance is the key to happiness...and life.

Thus, I've made my point... in the form of a circle, or rather an infinite black hole, however you want to look at it. I'm aware...I make things more complicated than they have to be.


Astigmatism sounds like a venereal disease.