Drugs, Jerks, and the Irony which is Choice

Looks like I’m writing a blog entry again. See, a lot of things have been on my mind lately. Maybe they’re the reason I can’t sleep well at night. Or maybe it’s the fact that my sleep pattern has been fucked up because of the shitty schedule I keep as a shift worker. Now I’m on my morning shift and two days after I’m graveyard and the day after that I’m going to be on P.M shift. Yes, I know it sucks. Whoever has the shots in making our schedule should seriously be lobotomised. For someone who’s already had a difficult time sleeping even before her schedule was fucked up beyond her control (okay, almost all control) this is seriously taking my sleeping hours away from me. The skin around my eyes are getting darker, I’m getting grumpier, body always feels weak, and I’m eating more.

That should be enough detail for a genius like Sherlock Holmes or someone who has a serious grudge to destroy my life. Now, to talk about stuff.


Anyway, I think I want to talk about drugs. Get this clear: I am not into drugs. I abhor drugs. No, I shouldn’t. I abhor drug abuse though. I detest it with all the neurons responsible for repulsion. I am not into romanticising it or whatever shit you say that is one form or another of “drugs is cool”. It’s worse than having to eat poop with worms sticking out of it. I also rather believe that once you abused it, you’re always gonna look for it.  Once a druggie, always a druggie. Burn me for it. See if I care. Don’t give me your people are complex bullshit. People are only complex because we don’t what to believe things that are right in front of our eyes. Okay maybe I don’t believe that enough but that’s what I want to believe right now. Sometimes we can be self-contradictory and there’s perfectly nothing wrong with that. Or maybe everything ha ha. Anyway that’s what one idiotic druggie would have me believed, you know being always a druggie. He’s been the cause of all kinds of shit my family had to experience. Really, I just wish he would die. Yes, that’s a heartless cold thing to say. I don’t think he will ever get better. I’m giving up hope on him—maybe I don’t love him enough? Maybe I’m the one so quick to judge and condemn as if I’m this ultra clean person with no poop stains on her frock. First, I don’t wear frocks. Second, I am poop-skinned so basically I’m stained all over. Heartless bitch? Well…


I hate this one local actor. Hate him enough to make me forget that my Facebook timeline should be suitable for work. I know I know this is going to be shallow, hating celebrities crap. Don’t read then. Anyway I abhor him and all his hypocrisy. His latest blunder is being a jerk. I’ve always sensed this jerk quality but recently he’s been such a complete idiot to actually make it so obvious. Well, he’s being a jerk to this girl onstage—a girl who looks like the actress they paired him up with and who made him popular in the first place. This girl won in a look-a-like contest or something. But instead of being a gentleman, or at least a decent human, he’d been a total dick to her, so much that the girl was speechless and looked like she was about to cry onstage. I hope someone would slash open his guts. Yes, I’m really that mean. I’m rather a bit, just a teeny bit satisfied because he received a huge backlash from the Filipino community. I hope his career rots. What can he offer anyway? He only looks good…if you have this certain set of eyes. He can’t act or sing or dance or be decent. He’s basically a talentless idiot who sucked dick on his way to the top. Yes, I’m saying he’s a cocksucker. Literally. And his name is Xian Lim.

I hate mean people. Especially those who humiliate someone publicly. But I’m actually being mean here too so what I’m saying is I’m a hypocrite. Just like everyone else. Deal with it.


Everyone has a choice. Do they? Don’t they? Do you have a choice on being an addict? Sure you had a choice to pick up that first joint or not. But what if someone has you bound so that the only thing you can move is your eyebrows, then injects a many-times-used needle up that big squiggly vein in your arm. Do you still have a choice in that then? See, I want to understand if everyone really has a choice in everything. I guess not? Because if that’s the case then we’d probably be gods. So yes I admit that’s a stupid thing to wonder about. Wrong stupid question. Let’s make it less stupid then: what are the things in which we have a choice on? I don’t know the specifics but what I know is this: A LOT.

We have a say on a lot of things. So you whining about how your life sucks is someone’s fault is a complete fat lie and you know it. Don’t blame your dysfunctional family for succumbing into drugs. Don’t blame the boyfriend who broke your heart for your morbid obesity. Don’t blame your annoying co-workers for the pathetic excuse that you call your work. Don’t blame the world because there’s no one beside you now to support you after you’ve pushed them all away because you hated yourself. And in fact you still do.

So who should you blame then? Yourself? Fuck no.

Why is there always a need for blame? Just ditch it. Stop the blame game and start the clean-up game. Playing the clean-up game starts with realizing everything that sucks in your life right now has always been something that you have control of. It may be because of you that it all started in the first place. Yeah yeah that sucks, cry about it if you have to, but don’t fucking cry too long–too long to realize that since you had much control to start it, the same control is in your hands to change it. Want a less shitty life? Then learn to wipe your own ass.

But what do I know, right?



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