It’s been a long time since I’ve been keeping myself in the dark; just enough time for me to grow out of my insecurities, hatred and all the Clark-iness vibe I give off. Circumstances have forced me to grow up (no puns intended) and act more mature, just to fail miserably. But at least I know I’m trying. Of those months of solitude (or just my job eating all of my time), I learned to shut up. I don’t have to explain myself anymore, and it felt accomplishing to be on a good streak. But as of this moment, I’m done with cold turkey and I think I’ll be fine now. I hope. Continue reading
Now remind yourself that, Clark. Remind yourself that you are at work and not supposed to be blogging.
I would always be that person who has a hard time connecting and building relationships with people because I am the not the nicest person you’ll meet. And yes, I won’t make much effort to be likable.
I don’t know if I’m stupid or a special kind of stupid to be expecting to find friends in here. YOU ARE AT WORK, FOR FUCK’S SAKE, you’re not in a summer camp expecting to gain a dozen of potential friends. Get of this site and work your ass off.
Friends don’t judge you and they take you as you are. The people you meet in the office are called colleagues for a reason.
I’m the curbside prophet and I have no choice but to suck it.
Today was definitely not one of my days.
I started the day with a mild hangover. Did a quick fix and I thought I was gonna be okay for the rest of the day. At least that’s what I thought. I checked my phone for whatever shenanigans I pulled the night before. Apologized for being too clingy to someone and deleted a tweet that was way out of line. And I did not expect that all those things will come and bite me back in my ass later this day.
All through out the day that tweet placed in the most awkward situations equivalent to another man’s life’s worth of awkwardness. People were not supposed to read that. It was the alcohol tweeting. Heck, it was still me. The alcohol gave me enough courage to hit the send button. I didn’t even care what repercussions would happen if I did that. Now what did it get me?
And the texts, oh yes. Friends have been too pun-ny about it. And yes, I did the “pretending I was not listening while I’m in the phone doing practically nothing acting like I did not hear a word they said” when they mention something about it. I’m just saying, those texts were overly sensationalized it shouldn’t even be a big deal. Drunk texts. Doh.
I was absolutely bothered the whole day. I never expected the repercussions to hit this hard. I just wanted to be someone else, fit into some strangers shoe and forget about the life I currently have. The awkwardness I felt was beyond boundaries. The worries I have that the story that is out there might be misinterpreted and things get awkward-er are worries that scream so much about uncertainties.
Listen kids, alcohol does give you enough courage to do the things you can’t do when you are sober. It usually resolves things, but in my case it made things even more complicated. I have been very careful as how I interact with the people making sure that they won;t get a clue why I did what. And things like that.
But now that alcohol has allowed a couple of people privy of my real intentions, it gets tougher. Thinking of how I should act socially reminding myself to not let the situation be awkward not just for me, but for the people around me as well uses up more neurons. It’s tougher now.
I have caused so much chaos and confusion already, let alone more awkward situations. And yes, the excessive use of the word awkward in this post does not compare to how awkward I really feel right now. So let me just apologize to all the people that are also stuck in the awkward situation that I made, please let’s not talk about the elephant in the room and just go on with how life should be.
I’m just a curbside prophet, with my hands on my pocket, pretending I’m a different someone.
A Machiavellian would say, it is better to be feared than to be loved. But where do you define the bounds of love and fear?
I have always considered myself a Machiavellian, and I enjoy being feared than loved.
And by love, I don’t mean the romanticistic love. I mean love in it’s general form– love for your family and friends.
How far would you go to be loved? To be feared? One simple action can change what someone feels for the other.
I have always considered emotion the flavor of actions. With an intensity of a certain emotion could alter your action’s intentions.
As a parent, you would obviously want to be loved. But I have heard from some people that they fear their parents more than they love them. I would have to leave my parents out of this as, ahh never mind.
As a friend, you would as well want to be loved. And someone like me with anti-socialistic behaviors, I count my friends with my fingers.
So someone tell me now, where do you define the borders of fear and love.
I lost my coherence and consistency in this post because right now I’m somewhere I don’t wanna be. Which sucks big time, btw.
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