Sa Lahat ng mga Torpe
Para 'to sa kung sino mang anonymous GAGO yung umendeavor sa'kin nung isang gabi sa YM. Pati na rin sa lahat ng mga babaeng sawang-sawa na sa mga chope.
Anonymous Assholes
Friday night, I came home to YM invites from a username I did not recognize. I denied the invites (all three of them) and sent a "who's this" message.
For the sake of convenience, I shall now refer to this person by the acronym "TUN" from his/her ID, "theunspeakablename".
TUN finally instant messaged me with “chance pls” TWICE, instead of properly introducing himself (or herself?). And because I am honest like that, I replied with “uh. no. this is kind of gross.”
The next few messages were blocks of text featuring the words “love”, “hurt”, “darkness”, and “suicide”. I thought it was a joke at first, a prank one of my friends was cruelly playing on me. They knew how much I hated melodramatic people who think that eloquence requires making everything sound like lyrics from one of those growly rock bands I hate. I wouldn’t put it past Lara or any of those bitches.
But then it began to sound more and more like one of those Cry For Help things, and as fate would have it, I was simultaneously having a conversation with a friend whose other friend had recently committed suicide. So I decided I’d indulge TUN. This wasn’t benevolence on my part. I just didn’t want his (or her) seemingly impending doom to be on MY shoulders.
I was not prepared for the angst-ridden professions of love that soon emerged from the lake of melancholic, unwelcome instant messages. TUN “just wanted a chance.” I wasn’t following at first so I replied with things like, “what?”, “a chance at what?”, “why’d you choose me to talk to?” (because really, if TUN was just looking for a shoulder to cry on, he should have known better than to come to ME), and finally, “a chance… you mean, with me?” Or something like that.
Something like an hour later, I realized that TUN was the kind of person who really just wasn’t worth my time. Not because he seemed to be in love with drama more than he was supposedly in love with me or because I had unwatched episodes of Sex and the City sitting on my hard drive, not even because anonymously messaging someone because you’re too chicken to let your feelings become known is just plain pathetic, but because there was just no talking him out of… whatever form of misery he thought was plaguing him.
To make this long story short, I finally gave TUN my favorite advice: Get over yourself. He ended the conversation with, “goodbye kim… I love you…” I’m assuming he meant “goodbye forever.” That was totally fine. I honestly couldn’t care if I tried.
So now, here’s where I become insightful. When did guys (forgive the sexism, already. I guess this can apply to girls as well) start thinking that doing shit like this is cool? Because it’s not. It’s cruel, unfair, and ridiculous. Girls don’t appreciate the cowardly method! It makes us lose sleep thinking, who could possibly be in love with me? or could it be this person that I actually like like back? And then you expect us to CARE. Which we want to, seriously, but we are literally unable to because WE. DON’T. FREAKING. KNOW. WHO. YOU. ARE.
And don't tell us you aren't asking for anything. You're asking for a lot, actually. Your leaving us anonymous messages is asking for our time, our patience, and also, our inevitable curiosity. We WANT to be flattered, we WANT to know if the sender has potential, and we WANT to feel important. Therefore, the mystery is unappreciated and is killing us.
Really, TUN, what did you hope to accomplish by wasting my time? The whole point of letting someone know you love them is so they can decide whether or not to reject you. Or think of you fondly and without bitterness. Or remember you as someone who made them feel as if your life was different because they existed. How can we do any of that if you’re too selfish to let us be touched by your personal admission?
Also, since when was it considered flattery to tell someone you can’t let them know who loves them because they’re intimidating (THIS FUCKING WORD SHOULD JUST BE CROSSED OFF FROM EVERYONE'S VOCABULARY)?
I have fabulous friends. I wear outrageous clothes. I laugh loudly. I’m blunt, emotional, and sarcastic. I love me and I’m not afraid to say it! Now, you are telling me that I am incapable of diving into a relationship because, with confidence and wit as my weapons, I strike fear into the hearts of men. Why would you make me feel bad for being me, which is someone who is happy and perfectly satisfied with who she is?
I am single, happy, and in love with life, but yes, sometimes I wish life weren’t the only thing I could be in love with. How dare you even assume that I cannot possibly feel human once in awhile? I’m not the one who’s bogarting the ‘chances’ here. I am not judgmental. YOU ARE!
This is not the first time a “secret admirer” has left me anonymous messages. Frankly, this alarms me. Anonymous profession of love is neither flattering nor affirming. Not for the professor and definitely not for the unfortunate professee.
Contrary to popular belief, us intimidating people have hearts too. And we therefore also have feelings. And by basically telling us that we are not worth your honesty, your boldness, and your courage, you are hurting those feelings. It makes us believe that we are being punished for being intelligent, confident, and funny, and that we will forever be unworthy of romance just because we love ourselves and think we deserve to be respected as human beings.
Us girls appreciate audaciousness once in awhile. We’re not all cold-blooded reptiles who will laugh at your blatant display of love and admiration. Believe it or not, we can sense your sincerity. And we can also smell Jerk a mile away. And we have the right to not only turn you down but also to consider you as an actual option. Society already gave you men the taking-the-initiative part. Please don’t take away the deciding part from us women. We can’t consider you if we don’t know who you are.
Why did TUN have to arouse my curiosity, you say? Perhaps it is because he knew he couldn’t arouse anything else that belongs to me, seeing as he was obviously lacking the proper tools in that department.
Seriously, if we can’t attach a face to your chosen aliases, we don’t freaking care. And we don’t freaking have to know that you’re totally in love with us. If you don’t have the balls to tell us, with all your heart, with all honesty, and face-to-face, that you like like us, then get off the fucking Internet and stop sending us cryptic messages already- seriously, I don’t fucking care what you do as long as I don’t know about it. Go update your Super Secret Blog, go and cry to your enabler friends, go pocket our tissues after we leave, go grab our pictures from Facebook, go collect the gum and the cigarette butts we spit out, go put our pictures under your pillow, go fantasize about us in the shower, masturbate, play with yourself, find Nemo, wank, jack off, jerk off, beat off, whack off, just PLEASE. SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Feel free to link this around or repost (with proper acknowledgment please). I'm aggravated enough to take this on as my personal challenge to reform idiots all over the world.
*He (or she) called me Kim Al in the first invite. CASTpers, which one of you suddenly turned into a straight guy or a gay girl?
Anonymous Assholes
Friday night, I came home to YM invites from a username I did not recognize. I denied the invites (all three of them) and sent a "who's this" message.
For the sake of convenience, I shall now refer to this person by the acronym "TUN" from his/her ID, "theunspeakablename".
TUN finally instant messaged me with “chance pls” TWICE, instead of properly introducing himself (or herself?). And because I am honest like that, I replied with “uh. no. this is kind of gross.”
The next few messages were blocks of text featuring the words “love”, “hurt”, “darkness”, and “suicide”. I thought it was a joke at first, a prank one of my friends was cruelly playing on me. They knew how much I hated melodramatic people who think that eloquence requires making everything sound like lyrics from one of those growly rock bands I hate. I wouldn’t put it past Lara or any of those bitches.
But then it began to sound more and more like one of those Cry For Help things, and as fate would have it, I was simultaneously having a conversation with a friend whose other friend had recently committed suicide. So I decided I’d indulge TUN. This wasn’t benevolence on my part. I just didn’t want his (or her) seemingly impending doom to be on MY shoulders.
I was not prepared for the angst-ridden professions of love that soon emerged from the lake of melancholic, unwelcome instant messages. TUN “just wanted a chance.” I wasn’t following at first so I replied with things like, “what?”, “a chance at what?”, “why’d you choose me to talk to?” (because really, if TUN was just looking for a shoulder to cry on, he should have known better than to come to ME), and finally, “a chance… you mean, with me?” Or something like that.
Something like an hour later, I realized that TUN was the kind of person who really just wasn’t worth my time. Not because he seemed to be in love with drama more than he was supposedly in love with me or because I had unwatched episodes of Sex and the City sitting on my hard drive, not even because anonymously messaging someone because you’re too chicken to let your feelings become known is just plain pathetic, but because there was just no talking him out of… whatever form of misery he thought was plaguing him.
To make this long story short, I finally gave TUN my favorite advice: Get over yourself. He ended the conversation with, “goodbye kim… I love you…” I’m assuming he meant “goodbye forever.” That was totally fine. I honestly couldn’t care if I tried.
So now, here’s where I become insightful. When did guys (forgive the sexism, already. I guess this can apply to girls as well) start thinking that doing shit like this is cool? Because it’s not. It’s cruel, unfair, and ridiculous. Girls don’t appreciate the cowardly method! It makes us lose sleep thinking, who could possibly be in love with me? or could it be this person that I actually like like back? And then you expect us to CARE. Which we want to, seriously, but we are literally unable to because WE. DON’T. FREAKING. KNOW. WHO. YOU. ARE.
And don't tell us you aren't asking for anything. You're asking for a lot, actually. Your leaving us anonymous messages is asking for our time, our patience, and also, our inevitable curiosity. We WANT to be flattered, we WANT to know if the sender has potential, and we WANT to feel important. Therefore, the mystery is unappreciated and is killing us.
Really, TUN, what did you hope to accomplish by wasting my time? The whole point of letting someone know you love them is so they can decide whether or not to reject you. Or think of you fondly and without bitterness. Or remember you as someone who made them feel as if your life was different because they existed. How can we do any of that if you’re too selfish to let us be touched by your personal admission?
Also, since when was it considered flattery to tell someone you can’t let them know who loves them because they’re intimidating (THIS FUCKING WORD SHOULD JUST BE CROSSED OFF FROM EVERYONE'S VOCABULARY)?
I have fabulous friends. I wear outrageous clothes. I laugh loudly. I’m blunt, emotional, and sarcastic. I love me and I’m not afraid to say it! Now, you are telling me that I am incapable of diving into a relationship because, with confidence and wit as my weapons, I strike fear into the hearts of men. Why would you make me feel bad for being me, which is someone who is happy and perfectly satisfied with who she is?
I am single, happy, and in love with life, but yes, sometimes I wish life weren’t the only thing I could be in love with. How dare you even assume that I cannot possibly feel human once in awhile? I’m not the one who’s bogarting the ‘chances’ here. I am not judgmental. YOU ARE!
This is not the first time a “secret admirer” has left me anonymous messages. Frankly, this alarms me. Anonymous profession of love is neither flattering nor affirming. Not for the professor and definitely not for the unfortunate professee.
Contrary to popular belief, us intimidating people have hearts too. And we therefore also have feelings. And by basically telling us that we are not worth your honesty, your boldness, and your courage, you are hurting those feelings. It makes us believe that we are being punished for being intelligent, confident, and funny, and that we will forever be unworthy of romance just because we love ourselves and think we deserve to be respected as human beings.
Us girls appreciate audaciousness once in awhile. We’re not all cold-blooded reptiles who will laugh at your blatant display of love and admiration. Believe it or not, we can sense your sincerity. And we can also smell Jerk a mile away. And we have the right to not only turn you down but also to consider you as an actual option. Society already gave you men the taking-the-initiative part. Please don’t take away the deciding part from us women. We can’t consider you if we don’t know who you are.
Why did TUN have to arouse my curiosity, you say? Perhaps it is because he knew he couldn’t arouse anything else that belongs to me, seeing as he was obviously lacking the proper tools in that department.
Seriously, if we can’t attach a face to your chosen aliases, we don’t freaking care. And we don’t freaking have to know that you’re totally in love with us. If you don’t have the balls to tell us, with all your heart, with all honesty, and face-to-face, that you like like us, then get off the fucking Internet and stop sending us cryptic messages already- seriously, I don’t fucking care what you do as long as I don’t know about it. Go update your Super Secret Blog, go and cry to your enabler friends, go pocket our tissues after we leave, go grab our pictures from Facebook, go collect the gum and the cigarette butts we spit out, go put our pictures under your pillow, go fantasize about us in the shower, masturbate, play with yourself, find Nemo, wank, jack off, jerk off, beat off, whack off, just PLEASE. SHUT THE FUCK UP.
Feel free to link this around or repost (with proper acknowledgment please). I'm aggravated enough to take this on as my personal challenge to reform idiots all over the world.
*He (or she) called me Kim Al in the first invite. CASTpers, which one of you suddenly turned into a straight guy or a gay girl?