Mature
Cliche as it may sound, I realized how terrible the non-disclosure of feelings is, and I'm not just talking about romantic stuff. I mean, things would probably be a lot easier if everyone were frank and honest. And in addition to one's brutal truthfulness, I wish people also had brutal maturity as well. Maturity to accept stuff, swallow the pain and hurt, and move on. Not exactly pretending that things never happened, but, well, making sure they don't get in the way of your sanity and life in general.
"Let [him] access you, but don't access [him]." (Centeno 2009)
Okay. Now that I'm officially an adult, this is my little birthday goal that I would aim for: maturity. Srsly. I am capable of being the most immature person in the world on occassion, and I think I want to change that. I know it's gonna be really, really hard, as in one huge effort on my fricking part, but hey, I'm gonna try. Mark this day. It's a start. I'd like to prove my own Multiply site name wrong. Goodbye flawed foresight. Here's to maturity, and clearer judgment perhaps.
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Some people are tired of being bad and want to be good for once.
But then again, some people are tired of being good and want to be bad for once.
Now the question is, where do I lie?
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En route to Yellow Cab last night, I first had to make a pit-stop by 7-Eleven Katipunan. I was obviously frazzled, unmindful of the people milling around me by the counter. As soon as I got my change, I briskly dashed towards the exit, itching to get out of the convenience store. Then the klutz in me decided to manifest itself and I bumped into the sleeveless shirt-clad customer entering 7-Eleven. I remembered his blue shorts, rubber shoes, and a bandage (?) just above his ankle.
Fuck, I bumped into Chris Tiu. But hey, it's cool. Really.