Oh yeah, and football.
I guess the only reason I'm writing this post is to buy time as I wait for the match between Espanyol and Paraguay. Btw, Argentina? Totally humiliated. 4-0. It wasn't a loss. It was total trashing.
Anyway, continuing on. This post is probably fodder material. You can read it, you can choose to ignore it. Your call.
Funny thing. As I was lying in bed the other day, thoughts kept swirling around in my head. No, they weren't hypotheses of the Universe's origin, nor were they quantum theories to elaborate upon the time-space continuum and the deliberation of anti-matter.
In fact, I was reminiscing about embarrassing moments I've experienced.
You know what's the funny part? I wasn't embarrassed then.
I remember, when I was... 15 maybe? My friends and I decided to hang out and watch a movie. Everything fine and dandy. *fyi, I still remember the lame shit movie we were FORCED to watch, because tickets for another MORE EXCITING movie was sold out. TREASURE ISLAND. OMG. 2.5 HOURS OF EXTREME TORTURE. That movie makes New Moon seem like a sweaty 10 minute make-out session. It was THAT BAD.*
Fashion is a weird organic contraption. Its evolution sprouts from the seed of creativity, eventually morphing into a briar bush of mortification, while fruits of dignity emerge just to be trampled and degraded back into the very soil which feeds its insensible growth.
Sad to say, thorns of social pressure were embedded in my epidermis, while I wallowed in the hallowed hell of fashion's vegetative state.
Super tight body hugging T-shirt and bell-bottom jeans. Both brown in color. Need I say more?
The worse part is, I THOUGHT I looked DA BOMB. I thought I was sexaaaay, hot, the epitome of fabulosity.
Was I dead wrong.
As I swayed my hips to the beat of mall music, head tilted up, shoulders squared, strutting around like a cock on steroids, I basked in the gaze of strangers. Strangers who, wouldn't give me the time of day on any other given day. Strangers who gave me wide-eyed stares which I mistook for admiration and lust.
*Laugh out loud*
I looked the fool, my dear readers.
Yet it seemed such a good idea at the time. In fact, it seemed... right.
It goes to show that, our actions at present are an expression and indication of our grasp upon our current reality. Clearly, I was pretty out of my 'reality' then. In fact, I think I was high on something...
Oh yeah. High on the presumptous assumption that the world loved me, and ONLY ME.
Gullible, yes. Fallible only if I had much to lose.
I didn't.
I learned an important lesson that night. One which others have taken like fish to water, but to me it's like the tentative steps of a newborn inhaling fresh air, free of its mother's womb.
Don't EVER wear tight bell-bottom jeans.
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