the fuck if I can smile, model and twist my body so the light from the window hits my angular face at the perfect angle to highlight my symmetrical features while carrying MY boxes. I'd be lucky I can even breathe
Well, today was really kanasai. It was kanasai like no sai has ever been kana-ed before. In fact kanasai would be putting it lightly, and I fear there may be no word in any existent language or dialect crude enough to describe it.
Today we had to move.
And move we did. We practically had to empty the contents of our room, and transfer it to a room that is similar in size, a block away. Sounds easy?
Well, it was definitely no fucking help that the freakin' procedure was so gruelling due to a 4 hour gap between the changing of rooms. A FOUR HOUR GAP.
Henceforth, the retards that we are had to sit like bloody refugees in a military camp, OUTSIDE of the new block where we're supposed to stay, to wait for the NICE, FRIENDLY, HELPFUL VILLAGE OFFICE STAFF to get their ass down to the office, and give us the damn keys to our room.
Wonderful. Absolutely fabulous.
Why treat us any better now, since you've been treating us like dogs before. I bet they've been going on like, "By golly, lets treat them like cows now! Throw them onto the friggin' field, and let us watch them graze their brains out. Hopefully they don't thread dirt into our flats and shit hay on the floor. Smashin' idea!"
Regardless of how shitty a day it has been, I had quite an epiphany this morning.
You see, I had 20 or so items to move out, consisting of two large luggages, two handcarry baggages, around seven boxes, duffel bags, sling bags, large full plastic bags and baskets filled to the brim.
And well... Have you ever seen me? Like, observed my physique? I have the shoulders of a pre-pubescent girl, the waist of a nymph and arms that hang limply like dessicated twigs. My legs are two spindly toothpicks trying to pass themselves off as usable limbs.
Darn it, and I thought I could fool people into thinking I was a girl!
Because the earth is round, therefore boys are supposed to carry their own bags. Not that anyone was raring to help me anyway. But, yeah.
So I slaved and dragged my belongings with whatever I could muster with this pathetic body. I panted, heaved, grunted, stumbled, pulled, push, kicked. Anything that could have made those damn things reach the top of the slope faster, I did.
And after an hour or so....... I did it.
It was all there. My boxes gleaming under the dreary sky, the pink/purple luggage standing proudly on the top of the hill, a testament to my effort.
And then it struck me.
This is life. Life as I will be facing very much soon. Life where no one gives a shit about what you're doing, how you're suffering. Where no one offers you a hand, unless you have a free arm to feed their mouths simultaneously as you grasp on to their calculating grip.
Everything I do, I do it by myself.
And everything I accomplish, I accomplished with my own hard work.
My blood, sweat, tears.
Those boxes I carried to the top of the hill. I did it MYSELF. And there were perfectly able guys, men who were stronger than me, taller than me, bigger than me, just strutting about as a struggled with my heavy stuff.
To be honest, this could have gone both ways. I could have sulked, cursed the world. Hate everyone for hating me, cry for being so unpopular.
Or I could just get my act up, and move the damn boxes.
Well, they're on the hill, aren't they? ;)
Karma. What goes around comes back around, my baby.
I would never wish unto you, what I myself wouldn't want unto me.
Thank you to those who helped me eventually. You didn't have to, but you did.
Like I said, karma.
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