I'm Not That Kind Of Person

F, I know you read this. You're probably the only one that knows it's still alive/comatose. I read yours, because it was on fb- what a great friend am I ey? This post isn't about you changing schools. It's about the post before. Ironic isn't it, we're both 2 different ends of stick, both trying, hard, to the middle. To what's considered "normal" or "hot".

It's sick how girls now want all their ribs to show to feel beautiful. It's weird how guys are consuming all kinds of unnatural powders to build muscle mass. I'm lazy to go on. it's 2 examples, but we both know how this will go on forever.

The people in my class are perfectly happy with their bodies. They're not size zeros. They range. Skinny and tall, skinny and short, fat and tall, fat and short. And they accept it. They love their bodies they way people should.

"People that go on diets are stupid." -this fat girl said it. And I'm not even angry. She doesn't care that she's fat. She's bigger than me. But she doesn't care. And I'm upset because I kept quiet, because I guess I'm ashamed. Because I don't know how long it has been since I've eaten something and felt good about it. Even if it's salad. I don't know how many times I curse myself because I don't ache enough from the workout I did the day before. Was it not intense enough? I don't know how many times I repeat my clothes because there are so few that I'm convinced I don't look that fat it. Stockings- the thicker the better in Singapore heat- to hide my fat thighs. Cardigans that don't cling to your body- which hides my arms just so I can wear a tank top because I'm bored of t shirts. Hoodies make my tummy look bigger. Leggings make me look shorter. Jeans- apparently the miracle worker that stretches your legs- are the enemy, they make me look hopelessly short with the weirdest ass.Shorts that never fit well. Basic T-shirts that make me look so fucking bloated. So let's face it. Nothing looks good.

I don't know, F, it used to be easy to think you're beautiful just like everyone else. How is it that they can feel so good about themselves? What's their secret? I watch all the youtube videos on the different workouts that you can do. I eat healthy. Low carb, exercise, no sweet drinks, just tea or water. All these things and sometimes it doesn't feel like I'm living anymore, you know?

I don't know what this post was about, I guess it's a half rant, half-

I get it. The pain. I got the other side of the stick, but we got into the same shit huh?

I'm here. Any time you need me, I'm here. We'll go to Fika's and you can have half of what I'm eating plus your pasta bake.

I wasn't easy.
I really don't know how you managed to make me feel better. Even when I felt like all hope is lost, you were there. Guiding me. Talking to me. Ensuring me that all will be fine. So it didn't matter. It didn't matter because I didn't need the world as long as you believed in me. And you did. And so, I did. I knew I was good enough because you showed me that I was. And I worked. Hard. To show you: you were right ma. I don't have to listen to the others. To those foolish people who thought I was stupid. I knew I wasn't, I knew I could do whatever I want if I put my heart to it. I knew it, because you said it.

It didn't matter if I didn't believe in myself. You did. And that was enough.

I worked hard. To get the grades. Which I got. To get the course. Which I didn't.

Why did you lie?

What happened to doing whatever I want?  All of a sudden, you didn't believe in my judgement? All of a sudden, this dream of mine that I've been carrying with me is bogus?

The funny thing is, after a while, I thought it was too. A phase. A pathetic day dream that would pass. Because I didn't do anything about it. I didn't work in the holidays because I felt like I've already worked for a year. What kind of passion is this when I never do anything about it. So have I been lying to myself? All this time, all that I knew, all that was me. Was that a lie?

What dream? I don't believe in dreams anymore. Why?

You taught me that dreams are lies.

I'm so tired of planning for the future. Not being able to plan for things because what if I get this, what if this happens, what if it doesn't, then I'd have to do that.

I want to be young and free.

Je Ne Regrette Rien

fuck.
I always thought about the big events in my life and how that affected me. and honestly, I didn't think it did me any harm. I always came out a stronger person. But I always walk out of interviews or classes thinking that I could have said this. I could have said that.

Damn.
It's like why can't I organise the things in my mind when I speak? Why must everything be so cluttered and messy up there? I need this.

I need this.

I don't know.

Je parle vite parce que je pense que je ne compte pas.