Because I feel that if I do not exercise my writing, I might forget how to use words. I had always believed that when people write  in bullet points, they are in a hurry or that they do not really like to expound on one subject.

• The only reason I like my job is the petiks, and the Adobe Photoshop. Seeing as I upgraded the photoshop here at home, the petiks in the office gets old really fast.
• The prospect of meeting my soul mate, is near impossible. As referenced by this article here. See the calculations. Therefore, I'm giving up the fight now, thank you. Perhaps I will resume looking when the odds are in my favor.
• Go to Medical City, considering that an alleged Anna Reyes gave birth in Medical City last March 10 2009, and two hours later, she was blogging and facebook-ing. She gave birth because she was allegedly hit by a car in Trinoma. And was rushed there. Go to Medical City, their facilities are miraculous and they offer wifi to postnatal patients--two hours after they give brith. (note the sarcasm and the inside joke)
• Bananas are female, Apples are male. At least for them Germans.
• It's amazing how you talk to someone over the internet., and continue a two-year friendship and feel completely comfortable the first time you go out on a date with them. ♥ yey, Alice and Xaris.
• There is never a bad time for Devil's Food Cake from Chocolate Kiss.
• Out of the 5 girls I hate, I can say that I have forgiven two of them, and that at least for one of them, I might have been partly at fault.

But only because you were wrong when you chose who to cross.

You better be afraid. And I mean fearful to the point of pain. Because for a while you had us going sympathetic for you. You told me that friends are there to betray you, when in fact you were betraying them all along.

This is the story of the girl who cried wolf.

See, I do not know anybody who likes being fooled. I do not know anyone who looks forward to uncovering the next lie a friend told them. The first assumption on friendship is good faith, that everything they tell you is true. That when they tell you that they are terminally ill with cancer, they mean it. No jokes, no lies, something plain and simple: That they are sick, and thus need all the support they can get.

The problem with said girl is that she constantly lies. She lies about her condition, she lies about her friends. Heck, she lies about other people's participation in her life.

You see, I do not mind being lied to. So as long as I do not find out, or that it is openly admitted to me long before the lie is uncovered.

There are some lies which are forgivable. I lie about being a student all the time, I pay student fare. because there are no moral repercussions to such lies. I pay the fare, while I cheat on the fare, it does not add any moral burden on the recipient of the lie. You could lie about your age, your weight, your real eye color, and we really won't mind. But there are lies which are unforgivable. There are lies which have moral and social repercussions which one can not forgive.

There are two acts which people can not seem to forgive about lying.

• (a) because you play them fools and disregard their sensitivities and intellect
• (b) because you constantly involve them with your lies. You constantly disrespect them, thus making the disrespect process cyclical.

I do not like being lied to. Most of all, I do not like being lied to at the expense of another's misery. I do not like doling out my sympathy to someone who  does not deserve, much less defames an old friend at said old friend's expense.

This is a warning, woman. I called him. and he has confirmed everything. Your inconsistencies are giving you away. Better clean up your act soon. Unless you want me to make sure you will have a whole mess in your hands to clean up.

I had always been comfortable in my own skin. 

I had always assumed that people I know are more less decent. By decency I mean that:

1. They do not pretend to be someone they are not.
2. They do not have an extended pretense about their personality.
3. They give respect where there is due, which means that they will credit people who they go ideas from.
   
   
   there seems to be a surplus of psycho girls.
   
   (1) Psycho girl who pretends to be dating my ex. She would have been okay, but then again she claims to be seven months pregnant with an old friend from college. Although she still gets her periods regularly. and she pretends to be selling laptops and cameras which she claims as new, but are stolen from other people.
   (2) Someone I know passes off her writings as hers, even though they have been copied verbatim off of someone else's blog post. One of which is a contact here in Flickr.
   
   I don't understand how people can pretend to be someone else. How can you sleep at night knowing you had been sleeping in someone else's skin?
   
   I would like to believe that I am interesting enough for myself to do away with exaggerated pretense.

Btw, I just posted my photo from flickr, cause I do not have any photo to post. haha

I am very insecure.

There are days when I over-analyze this insecurity. As with every insecurity, there are varying degrees. I admit I am insecure with my sister when it comes to her intelligence. But, needless to say I am proud that intelligence runs in the family. I am insecure that my twin is smart, and has read more than a hundred books than me. But I do not bear grudges against it. These are a good type of insecurity where it drives you to become a better person.

But there are those insecurities which eat me up. The kind which makes you feel irritated and pissed and which drives you to do better. So why do I do what I do?  Because insecurity drives me to become a better person. It makes me want to comb my hair in the morning, and brush longer at night. It makes me want to take more photos and learn more photoshop. I do what I do because I do not want to sorely lose.

This is the secret:

There is this girl I do not like. Someone particular, out of the many girls I do not like. I hated her in a lot of ways than you can imagine. Because she bad mouthed me and my mother when my mother had a stroke, because she spreads stories, because her boyfriend tells lies. Because, because. Oh, because.

There. I can move on now. And I have forgiven. Sabi nga:

Always forgive your enemies, nothing annoys them so much.

The word insecurity must have a verb attached to it. Like flight which has flying, to perfect as to perfection. Because insecurity sometimes demands an action from the one whom the feeling is extracted from. In fact, sometimes I believe insecurity sometimes is a deliberate act. Like when you keep on scratching your wounds by checking out old photos, or new ones. This is insecurity.

Today I saw your photos. I would like to tell you how bad they are, but they are not. My friends tell me that you are not pretty. I would like to believe them. I intend to believe them, in fact that is why I keep on looking at your photos to convince myself of that fact. But I sincerely do not see that. Blame it on the fact that I am terrible at remembering faces.

You make me want to comb my hair because I think my hair is better. You make me want to smile more because I know I smile more infectiously. But I can not shake this, not you, not yet. I do not know when. All I know is that I wanna be good at this.