Ego-Tripping Bon Diggity

I think I wrote this for Theology 5 years back...I hate my approach..Feel free to critique..

Despite all the blemish that seems to pop out of the mirror at me like a 3D picture every morning. Despite the zits that makes my face as bumpy as Chocolate Hills and sebum on which you can fry cheese sticks on a hot summer day. Despite the frizzes of my perennially wayward hair. Despite the fat hanging out of my hipster pants. Despite my poor memory and bad math. My snobbishness and jadedness. Life is good.

Sometimes these whining and complaining of the state I’m in is wearing and wearying. It kills the soul, drains the spirit, and damage the psyche.I look at everything in life with a jaundiced eye. Jaded. It’s as if I’m playing tag with the sun.

Yes, I do have a lot to complain about. Who would’nt? Life is terribly unfair and every bit of reality nips on your skin like a chilly Misa de Gallo breeze. But despite all the biting realities, I know that there are still sterling qualities about me. Some maybe a figment of my hyper imagination produced by my neuro-synaptic wreck of a brain. Yet I know some are tried and tested by both time and self-pity.

I’ve heard people say that I’m pretty. Though I wonder if they are saying it out of pity or simply just for the laugh they get out of it. But come to think of it If I buy all the make-up man can make and with a little help from science, who knows. I may not turn out to be another raving beauty like Audrey Hepburn but close enough to beat Camilla Bowles-Parker out of her throne. Oh ok, I am pretty. Scratch it. Only cute. Debatable but hey doesn’t beauty lie in the eyes of the beholder. If I say I am, you have to respect my opinion. Don’t feed my insecurity by measuring me up with all the Heart Evangelista clones in this artificial society.

Some people think I’m crazy. But the truth is I’m just bored. To drive away that boredom, I dress up. Not in your usual fashionista goody goody two shoes sort of way, but in a style completely my own. I guess that’s one good thing about me. I’m not a fly that’s trapped in amber. I don’t wear something because it’s what’s in but I wear my frocks because It’s the best way of projecting my emotions to the world. I’m not afraid of change, of being different. My friends are all over it but I just keep it down low.

I’m candid, upfront and behind. I don’t kiss up to someone I don’t like. I don’t front. I think that’s a good quality-if not taken to the extreme.

I believe I have a good heart. I love serving the masses. Admittedly I’m such a politiko deep inside. As I reflect on it now, maybe this is the reason why I was so involved in so many extra-curricular organizations in my previous schools. Mostly are socio-civic organizations like the Girl Scouts. I have always held an office. I try to please people. Help them. Serve them. But please don’t get on my nerves.

Speaking especially public speaking has been my forte. I can’t relate to what people call as cold feet. I feel so at home in speaking in a huge crowd. I have hosted events a lot, way before I transferred to this ho-hum Catholic institution. I can talk forever which is why one of the adviser of a paper I worked with calls me “Big Mouth”. Those were the days. I’ve now mellowed down with age.

I may not have real talent. I can’t sing and I’m a lousy dancer. I once tried my hand at playing banduria and as expected, I failed. I’m quite good with creative ideas though. And I’m good with my hands. I’m crafty (smiles). I make trinkets and accessories. I’m proud of it.

Some people may or may not agree with what I’ve written. But my little Bio black book and my Friendster testimonials comforts me that my support group thinks I’m special. Yes I am special.