I used to think it was cute when I was out and guys would comment on their finding me attractive. But now I’ve realized how stupid it is. I don’t want to be liked for the way I look anymore. I don’t want to be hit on because some guy just wants some “gash” for the night. I want someone who likes the way I talk, and the embarrassing things I say, and the silly facial expressions I make.
Having said that, is monogamy even possible? Sometimes I think it’s so unnatural. And I find myself wondering if guys even see the point in having a girlfriend these days when one night stands are so easy to come by.
Maybe the Earth is our God. The very ground we walk upon created human beings to live and nurture the life which stems from its core.
But now we just abuse it.
Lately I’ve been beginning to notice just how old my father looks. While life moves slowly on, it’s easy for subtle changes like this to slip under the radar. But the other day when I was about to drive somewhere, he signaled the need for a word. And when I wound down the window I noticed a face that looked more similar to my scarcely seen grandfather’s than his own. A face carved with creases; set with tired eyes and a receding hair line.
And it scares me somewhat. Because often I neglect the fact that life is forever moving. I’ve been on this Earth many years already and will hopefully continue to be on it for many more to come. I’m in the transformation of becoming an old woman; just in the early days. Cue quarter-life crisis.
I need to start living.
I’ve come to the realization that I can never be content where I am. That’s not to say that I’m unhappy, but I will just never feel completely fulfilled. I’m a wandering soul; I miss my friends, I miss experiences, I miss the Earth.
Because the thing is, there’s always something to miss. There’s always something that could be in your life, that isn’t.
Perhaps owing to my personal experience and curiosity, for some incomprehensible reason I track the ’virginity’ tag. Now, often this feed is merely plagued with memes of nerdy gamers or quotes like Curiosity Killed Your Virginity and Bombing for Peace is like Fucking for Virginity. However, every now and then you’ll come across a post about a girl looking for answers about whether it is “the right time”.
Now, I know how easy it is to look for personal advice on the internet, and it’s great that they are trying to talk about it, but sometimes it really worries me. Essentially, these young ones are merely asking other young ones for wisdom. And it’s not just that, it’s the whole concept of relying on faceless people in computers. When I feel a bit sick, what do I do? Instead of going to the doctor, a quick Google search does the trick!
But what I’ve concluded is this: if you want to know how to get emoticons on your phone, or paint your fingernails prettily, search away! But for the bigger issues; I just don’t think it’s wise to put your problems in the internet’s hands. Plus, I can’t count how many times I have erroneously diagnosed myself with life-threatening diseases.
Hmm, I was wondering if anyone would ever ask this question. I guess the answer is because that’s just how I roll. What of it?
No, but in all seriousness, I usually italicise things which I want to read like a silly afterthought or when I want to change the tone. I also sometimes do it to emphasise things, because I don’t like to use bold.
I know - terribly confusing, right?
The horrid thing is, you can’t hear how it sounds in my head so you probably don’t understand how I think it should read. And that’s the wonder of writing, isn’t it? Something can be completely misinterpreted by others, even if it makes perfect sense to yourself.
But, I guess in returning to my initial answer, it’s just how I like to write. Since it’s merely my blog and not a research paper or something, I feel the desire to go all out. And while we’re on the subject of grammatical correctness, have you noticed that I tend to begin a lot of my sentences with ‘and’?
What a douche I am.
I’ve found that people are always dismissive about other human’s connections with their animals. More often than not I’ve heard the phrase, ‘Oh, get over it, it’s only a dog/cat’ uttered after one’s pet dies. But I think it must be those people who have never had pets - or at least not for a long time - who just don’t understand.
My dog is one of my best friends. Over the past sixteen years I have grown up with him, cuddled him, and laughed at his odd quirks. Although he can’t speak, we have a relationship on some level. Essentially, he’s just the mute, furry friend I never had!
So when he goes to ‘doggy heaven’, which I know will probably be soon, I am going to be très upset. And I don’t care who knows.
During my final year of high school, I had no future dreams of going to university. I wanted to travel; I wanted to relax; and above all, I wanted to dabble in the art of acting, not academia. Thus the majority of my nights were spent watching television, going to a considerable amount of raging 18th birthday parties, or surpassing my previous high scores on Mario Kart.
However, when my statement of results came through, and I saw they were of a satisfactory standard, I instantly regretted not applying for university. I came to realise the truth: I hadn’t thought I was intelligent enough to be accepted.
Today, as I sat and chatted with a relatively new university friend of mine, we got to talking of whether we were happy in our courses. I admitted that I had never been to any university ‘open day’, and only applied to go during my gap year, and that sometimes I wished I’d chosen to study journalism at another certain institution.
Her eyes narrowed with thought, and she commented that one needs a rather high ATAR for that particular course. I nodded in placid agreement, but could perceive even before she opened her mouth that she was about to ask me that dreaded - ‘I don’t mean to pry, but what was your score?’ - question.
Although she tried, she could not veil her utter surprise upon hearing my answer. Only minutes ago was she announcing that I would most definitely be in Hufflepuff if I were a Harry Potter character.
I guess, in a way, it was one of the reasons I decided to start writing here. To prove to myself and anyone willing to listen that I’m more than just the ditzy girl I seem to be. And also… that I’m a badass at Mario Kart.
You know what I hate about shopping?
That phatic conversation where the retailer asks how you’re doing and/or if you need any help, when clearly you don’t.
Actually, I just hate phatic conversation in general.