This is Me. Ranting.

I cancelled Hope yesterday. After years of trying to order it upline (Not online. Requests granted from up there.) I have decided that hope is not for me. Ellis Boy “Red” Redding couldn’t have said it better- Hope, is a dangerous thing. 

Oh well, since that thing isn’t coming in the mail anymore, I might as well cancel Happiness as well. 

Oh, please shut up. I’m sure you have some self-empowerment shit up your sleeves that you think might impress me. Stop it. I actually consider not listening to you a personal success on its own. 

Not that I don’t like you. It’s just that you have not made any kind of sense all these years. I would much rather project my insecurities on anything and everything. Yes. That would make me happy. 

Anyway, since I don’t have any fun weekend plans lined up for the next few months, I thought I’d rant a little. 

About life. 

Do you know how life tries to convince you to make lemonade when it gives you lemons? 

Well for the past few years, life has been throwing me a few lemons. Okay, that’s putting it mildly. Here’s what really happened. Life embargoed lemons and dumped it all on me. I guess, it felt like I needed that much lemon to teach me a lesson.

What did I learn? Life can be a  total dickhead. 

Because lemons are the least of my problems. To be honest, I really feel life has been suspiciously unfair to me. Like playfully throwing M&M’s at someone and getting a grenade thrown right back at you unfair. I mean, fuck, I wasn’t that bad. I don’t think so. And I think I’d have to be exceptionally evil to receive this kind of shock treatment. 

But that’s what sort of happened. 

Sadly. 

I’m sorry if you find that too emotionally honest. But I’ve been having problems lately trying to figure out how to exist. Like I have forgotten how I existed before all this personal apocalypse happened. In short, let’s just say that I’ve never been a fan of lemonade. Because here I am. All fucked up inside. In dramatic slow motion. 

Don’t get me wrong. And for those who hate me, don’t get too excited either. Your karma is on the way. I’m not in need of immediate psychological help. Maybe I’m just bored. I hate this- being grounded because of the pandemic situation that I’m in right now. It makes me entertain evil thoughts. And sad.

Is anybody else feeling the same way? Relax, I’ve never given up before. I think. And it’s not like I’m starting to entertain the idea. 

Everyone is allowed to get sad every once in a while right? And I am no exception. Besides, this feeling empty and all that drama kind of looks cute on me.

Because sadness, for the most part, has a way of creeping in slowly. From all angles. I suddenly felt this way so I thought I’d write it out. A lot of factors can be considered why this is happening to me too. Like, maybe it’s the people that surround me. That or the way I think about myself that needs to change. 

See, I have always wanted to be a well-plated beef Wellington in the eyes of people when clearly all they see is your typical hole-in-the-wall Tapsilog. And that’s just one page of my daily bread of self-doubts.  Obviously, my insecurities have grown so long that I can easily turn it into an eBook and sell it on Amazon. That, I think, is where all this sadness and uncertainty is coming from. 

Poor life choices. Constantly thinking that happiness can be found in someone else. Not accepting who I am. Not loving myself more.  Yep. That should be it.

Wait. 

I may have just had an epiphany. All of a sudden, and as I am writing this, I’m starting to feel hope and happiness creeping right back in.

Yey.

So okay.  I think from now on and in light of this recent, ahh, enlightenment, I have decided that  I’m just going to be myself. 

A prick. A sensitive one, mind you. Alternatively? A loveable asshole. 

That’s Vonspeak for being a good person, by the way.

Now just in case, you’re one of those people who happen to don’t like me that much? Well, you can just go fuck yourself. I have more than a thousand friends on Facebook. I really wouldn’t mind if it were down to ten. If those left would be like, you know, real.

I’m a tapsilog.

Learn to accept it. 

I should also accept that I am clearly at a stage where I  just want more out of life. Even if I know and feel that everything will be okay. In fact, a strong case can be made that life has, in reality, been kinder to me than most people I know. And even after every fucking stupid thing I’ve done in the last few years. Like my rugged good looks. Which, by the way, is a force of nature that time has not been able to decrease or slow down by any means. Thank God! I mean, what more can I ask for right? It recently occurred to me that my face is like a law of nature—a thing one could not question, alter or implore. 

Which means I’ll be POGI- for life. Haha! Okay, pakibaba lang po yung kilay. We all know this is a big lie and I am just feeling too magnanimous right now.

Wow. That got me all riled up. I think I’m starting to feel a little bit better. I’m sorry for making you worry. Dealing with life shouldn’t be a disaster after all. Toward the end of this piece, I realized that ranting is good. It makes for emotional progress. Maybe I just needed attention. Maybe I got confused as I misdirected my pent-up emotions outwardly instead of the usual- inwardly.

Or maybe, I’m just building content.

For a book.

An insipid shallow attempt at literary fame that will never happen.

Anyway…(*sighs*)

Last question. 

If you could make any part of your body detachable without any kind of serious physiological risks, what would it be?

Thanks for making it this far.

You don’t need to answer that.