Getting to know me is probably one of the weirdest times one could ever have in their life. Besides the fact that I’m unpredictable, everybody tells me I’m mysterious. Some say I’m a psycho, others say I’m a brat. Well, this is basically how people perceive me to be and I respect that. I don’t even give a damn if they call me a bitch or if they shower me with angelic metaphors. If that’s how they see me, as honestly as possible, that’s fine.
Here’s more stuff about me.
I’m ambitious, but I’m lazy. Yes, it’s weird like that. I dream big things and I like imagining them.
It’s not that I hate planning, but I’m scared of planning and failing through the risks. But I’m a fighter, especially for my loved ones.
I’m a go-getter; I don’t give up just like that. But like you, I’m weak-hearted.
I search for love; I seek understanding, I long to be accepted. I’m sensitive and emotional. I look at your words and your actions carefully. But I’m open-minded.
I love memories. To me it’s mixed feelings to look back at the old times. I’m often visited by nostalgia and sometimes I hate that. But sometimes I find a way to get joy in sadness.
I’m a cry baby. There are times I cry out of nowhere. I cry in my silence. I cry in my solidarity.
I’m secretive. It’s something I can’t fight. I store a lot of reservations. I find it hard to trust people completely. But if a person earns it, I tend to give it all, even if sometimes shit bounces back to me. And like glass, if my trust is broken, everything is shattered and nothing ever stays the same.
I like dream interpretations. Well that sounds pretty crappy, but I like knowing spontaneously how the world defines a specific subject in my dream. I like knowing whether or not it relates to me.
Like my father, I’m a bit of an observant. I can be talkative, but I don’t like public speaking. I prefer to watch and look around rather than be the center of attention.
I like performing and being on stage, but, it’s not all the time that I want audiences. Sometimes I just wanna be there and be alone.
I was previously known as the quiet girl. But eventually my interpersonal skill was honed. I like to socialize, but I try to feel people. Oftentimes it takes more than just one meeting for me to feel comfortable with someone.
I don’t like it when things don’t go my way or as planned. I never wanted to believe in luck nor in destiny. But somehow, even when things come shitty for me, I manage to walk my way out of it. The only bad thing is, I barely learn from it.
I’m stubborn. I just am.
But I can be a sweetheart. I like to snuggle, I like to smell and kiss. I look into the eyes of a lover with deep meaning.
When I’m angry, I’m a hungry tiger. When I’m frustrated or offended, I’m silent. I’ll hold it in as long as I can. But trust me, it hurts so awfully bad.
I don’t like tactless people. I don’t like people who are narrow-minded. I don’t like social climbers. I can’t be with them for more than 30 minutes so I’m off. I have a hard time trying to stand situations like that.
I’m a thinker. I like to think a lot. Now I’m not sure if this comes from too many emotions I tend to keep inside of me, or if I’m just a safe player. As much as possible, I’d think before I speak. I’d think about something before I do it. But believe it or not, I can be just as impulsive when provoked.
My temper is an enemy. Sometimes I hate myself for the obscure mood swings. But come to think of it, during these bad times I can actually see who stays after I puke crap in front of their faces. I’m not proud of my temper, I actually struggle controlling it. And yes, most of the time I win, but then again I feel so bloated I wanna explode!
I like songwriters. To me they are sweethearts. They are able to create the best of words to describe the indescribable.
Back in my younger years I was the shy type of girl. Growing up I got to expand my social circle. Quite frankly, I grew up with all the shining shimmering attention from my home to the outside world. It’s not that I don’t like it, and I ain’t bragging about it too. It’s just that, I realized that among all those who tail around you, only a few of them are actually true. So it’s like I don’t care much, and I’ve sort of grown aloof.
I won’t say I’m numb. There are just times I become indifferent. These are times when you bump your head and come to your senses that you’re driving over the wrong side of the road; times when you wake up and think to yourself why you’re stressing up chasing over things that don’t wanna be chased.
I never appreciated politics. I just have nothing to say. It could be that I know nothing about it at all. In my country, all you’d ever see or hear about is dirt. And sometimes no matter how curious I am I just turn my back from it.
I like simple things. I don’t like wearing too much jewelry. I don’t like spending too much for a huge party that’s gonna last for only 8 to 12 hours in a day. I’m barely a shopaholic. When I do I could get carried away. But when I spend my money it must be something I really want, something I really need, something I really love. I don’t like wearing too much make-up. So during special occasions to free myself from disappointment, I do it my way.
I don’t like money talks. I never considered myself the expert when it comes to budget management. But I ain’t rich either. I didn’t come from a rich family. Like other families, every now and then there can be struggles with finances.
I’m not a good leader. In college they used to say I have that leadership skill. Well, that’s just probably because they placed me there so I had to do something. I am authoritative; however, I tend to be weakened when I’m criticized. Although I view it constructively, I’m a support-needy. My motivation is usually appreciation. Some people have bigger expectations from you; they are able to see potentials that you don’t see in yourself. I prefer to be pushed that hard, but then again I’m still questioning if this is the field I wanna be at.
When I think about being a leader or a manager, I don’t really see myself in it. I think that’s one of the reasons why I took the Master program. It can be a way to find out if I really wanna be in that line. I’m not sure if I can be a good boss. They tell me I’m a big fit, but I’m pretty sure they’re only picturing me with the corporate/business attire and that’s how they say I have it. I always thought I wasn’t ready to be promoted; one - I’m not fully equipped, two – bigger responsibilities are kind of threatening to me, three – I totally lack confidence in myself. You see I know the first two things were summarized by the latter and they’re huge crap thoughts. I don’t understand why I’m always running away. I guess I’m just a big loser.
I’m not demanding. If I ever do, I badly need it.
I like little stories. I like talking to people who likes to explain what they mean. I can be attentive to details. I could die if this isn’t satisfied. I’m a slight OC. And I’m a big curious cat.
I have a thing for sweet nothings. I buy those in a snap. Just a little endearment and the ice go melting. Yes, they make me happy. But the sad fact is I could tell when it’s too good to be true. You can get me believing, but I don’t take too much icing in my cake.
I don’t hate liars. But I very much hate being lied to. Secrets can go by, but lies won’t. They make me feel stupid. Secrets matter to me if it has something to do with me. I don’t like being fooled. I mean I know nobody who likes to be fooled around anyway.
I totally hate cheaters. It doesn’t matter why they do it or how. They come in different ways like “I was drunk” “you were always gone” “I got carried away” “she kissed me first”; and to me, there’ll never be any acceptable excuse for cheating.
Yes I don’t like players. Players are feelers. They are douchebags; simple as that.
I’m a little picky. I choose the special ones. It’s funny that I want the best but I always end up settling for the good and simple ones. I guess it’s true that at the end of the day what matters most is what makes you feel comfortable.
I don’t like being an option. I wanna be treated with respect. I’m sick of being the dice.
I hate not getting answers to my questions. When I ask and I’m ignored, I feel upset. To me, it means two things: one – you never listened nor paid attention, two – you refuse to answer. And both are just terrible.
I'm a little scared of coffins. I don't know why 'cause I'm not scared of the so-called ghosts and blah. As if I've seen them eh. But I just hate the picture of a coffin. That's it. I don't like the thought of dead people in it, I guess.
It’s pretty obvious that I like to write. I like to write my thoughts out. When I write, it has to come from an inspiration. It’s either a feel-good way or a frustration. I write mostly from feelings and hardly from pure nothings. Writing, for me, is an outlet; a better way to express myself; an easier way to free kept emotions. I am writing this out of something, for sure. And that will no longer be a part of this four-paged output.