No one likes you? Here's mutiny, a camel toe, and some BS.

Before anything else, I'd like to thank all my friends who read my entry yesterday and told me I write well. Quite a number of those who read my sappy shit actually sent me messages saying stuff along the lines of "story of my life" and "I feel you". In a way, it's comforting to realize that a lot of the people around me are either going through the same thing, or have already reached that not-so-lonely-and-dark clearing I've set out for since last August 2010. Never ceases to amaze me how even the happiest, most bright-eyed people turn out to be similar products of heartbreak. I've come to realize that loneliness and being alone are two completely different things. Loneliness is subjective. As cliché and as 90s-pop-ballad as it may sound, loneliness can creep up on anyone in the most crowded places. Doesn't even matter if your friends are there with you. Sure, you have companions, but is it the company you actually need or long for at the moment? It also doesn't matter if you're actually enjoying yourself. Loneliness is kind of like that itchy tag you forgot to cut out of your shirt. You'll survive the night, but you won't be able to ignore it completely. As for being alone, I don't think anyone can ever truly be alone. So many people are in the same boat with you, it's just that no one cares to look, talk and listen. Well, unless you're really rude, and scarily ugly, I think you'd be riding solo in that boat. Or maybe you did have people there with you, it's just that… you're impossible to put up with and you're not even easy on the eye, and were thrown overboard to appease the sharks. THEN AGAIN, even in your masticated state, you can still take comfort in the fact that someone, somewhere is also being eaten by a shark. Still not alone, see?

Anyway, yesterday was a good day. It was just right. Nothing really significant happened, but I enjoyed having time to myself. Like, to do stuff I wanna do. It was just smooth sailing all the way. Today, however, is a different story. I think it more or less started when my bed manipulated me into sleeping for 5 more minutes, and then waking me after 55 more. When I finally get to school, I see this chubby girl who obviously thinks leggings are the same thing as pants. Or maybe she knows they aren't, and the jokes on me, and she just thoroughly enjoys publicly displaying her clearly defined panty lines and camel toe. I know it's not something I should be getting upset about, but I'm genuinely bothered about how much this isn't bothering her. Oh god, someone needs to tell her. Isn't it a saying that only true friends tell you the truth? Should I try being a true friend then?

So, I leave school for a supposed meeting with some modeling agency. Note that that's what they keep telling me they are. I get there and BAM! it's nothing but networking bullshit. "Earn 10 million in a year!" my fine ass. That's an hour and a half of my life I'm not getting back, man. I could've spent that time on the treadmill or in my comfy, manipulative bed. Geez, if Facebook found out I wasted my time with something else, I'd be dead.

Aaaand one of my writing fears has finally come true. I've written a blog entry recounting the day's insignificant events. I rarely, if not never, do this. What can I say? I'm delaying studying, and writing about "feelings" just seemed like the only excuse my conscience would buy. Although since I think I've officially run out of possible rants and willpower, I think I shall retire for the night. Back to my one true love - the manipulative bed. I'm taking my notes with me, but I've already accepted that I will fall asleep 30 minutes in. I wish all of you better luck with battling your own demons. I keep having long, fun talks with mine, so... there. You know what not to do. Don't be me.