Sunday, May 1, 2011

I Feel Pretty but Unpretty

Its strange that the longer I have this blog, the less inspired I seem to be to write anything of meaning. Some of my older posts included my take on current issues as well as the emotional rantings expected of a 19 year old teenager's blog. I don't know why, but it seems that I am slowly (but surely) losing my ability to express myself through writing. Must be the effect of being away from academic life for so long.

Speaking of academic life, I have finally received my Confirmation Letter from UCAS. This makes my enrollment in the University of Liverpool this September official. Don't ask me how I feel about it, because its a mixture of too many things. As much as a relief it was to receive the letter after weeks of waiting, the prospect of leaving is still surreal. I'm not sure when the feeling will sink in properly, but I have a feeling that that will only happen when I'm actually there. As of now, it feels kinda like I'm looking at the future through a pair of foggy spectacles. It sharpens your vision, yet you can't clearly make out what is it that you're actually seeing.

Its funny that most people find my cynicism on love to be disturbing and hard to believe, when I find their sunny optimism to be deluded and farcical. The thing is, everyone I've talked to about the issue haven't been able to give me a solid explanation as to why I should change my views. The answers I'm given are either revoltingly cliched, or a sermon that eventually leads to words like 'destiny' and 'fate', which are not to be questioned. Now, please don't think I'm being blasphemous or anything like that, because I'm not. I just think that such things should be discussed objectively, or else why bother discussing them at all? Which is why I now think that bringing up the subject of my cynicism to anyone is not a very smart idea.

That being said, I'm beginning to think that the overused phrase 'your first love is the one you'll remember forever' has some element of truth to it. The thing is, how do you actually differentiate 'remembering' and 'still in love'? Its even harder to figure out because I don't have any precedent for reference. I've fallen in love, truly in love, only once. Even as I'm typing this, I'm starting to question how is it that I'm so sure whatever I felt (and possibly still feel), is even love in the first place? Can it be called love if the feeling was, and never will be returned? This is precisely why I'm so cynical about this whole subject, there's no definite answer to anything. What makes it worse is that movies and television make it look like love is so easy, so sure, like there is always someone who would accept you for exactly who you are. None of these filmmakers seem to be remotely interested in portraying reality at all.

Or maybe it is actually easy and straightforward, I'm the one who just overthinks everything way too much. That's what one of my friends said about me. But its not like I'm saying all of this without reason, because its all from experience. How can putting back the pieces of your heart be straightforward?

That same friend also called my blog 'angsty'. Perhaps it is. Perhaps I do sound like a bitter, sourgrape grinch in desperate need of some rainbows and sunshine. I don't feel the need to justify myself, as I assume that those who read my blog know me well in person, which means they know that I'm actually a girly-girl who squeals at the sight of anything pink, someone who laughs so loud she's sure it makes people stare. I just don't see the point of blogging about mundane things that I don't feel very strongly about. Doing that would render my presence in the blogsphere pointless, I think.

To prove that my life is not all doom and gloom, I've finally gotten started on my driver's license! It's still a long way to go until I get my P, but at least I've started. Honestly, if I wasn't flying off in September, I probably wouldn't have bothered taking it yet. The prospect of driving a vehicle on the road, with other vehicles lurking dangerously by, is a thought that still creeps me out.

Great, so much for getting rid of the gloom. Maybe I just need therapy.

"I wish I could tie you up in my shoes
Make you feel unpretty too
I was told I was beautiful
But what does that mean to you
Look into the mirror who’s inside there
The one with the long hair
Same old me again today."

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