Not ourselves.

Who knows us best? Not ourselves. For you to truly know who you are, you'd have to stand at the end of your life and review everything you ever did. Look at how you acted, and how your actions affected others. Listen to what you said, and find out how others heard you. Dive into your own thoughts, and analyze how these affected how you acted, and how you spoke. 

And them? Do they know you? To some extent, of course. But most of who you are, and what you are, is lost in your attempt to be. 

To be what? What are you trying to be? And more importantly, were you successful in being? You were trying to be what you thought you should be, and what you thought people thought you should be. In the process, you realized that you should stop trying and just let yourself be. 

And then you ask yourself again: Who am I?

So you go through life, attempting to figure out who you are. When you get to the end, you still haven't figured out who you are. So you review everything you ever did. 

Limitations part 2!

And just when I finally convinced myself.

I'll go to bed early! Yeah! Then get up early, have a hearty breakfast, go on the treadmill for half an hour,   read a bit, have lunch, fix my bookshelf, read again, have dinner, and then go back to bed! My day will be healthy and wholesome! 


Here I am at half past 4 in the morning, eating donuts and drinking Pepsi while watching a show about a werewolf.

I like limitations. They remind us that we can't do everything and that not everything is possible. You can only consume so much sugar and then BOOM! Diabetes. You can only drive so fast and then BOOM! Car crash. Limitations keep us grounded, and I don't like it when people (most especially myself) think of themselves too talented or important.

Limitations can be self-imposed, of course. Eat only this, drink only that. Watch just this number of hours of TV a day, stay on the computer for just this number of minutes a day.

I've been blurring my limitations lately. I take 5 showers a day, leave the air-condition on for more than 12 hours a day, place the modem near my bed so I can go online while lying on my stomach.

I wet my bed today.

I wish this were a metaphor for something. Sadly, it isn't.

It's like I've been pushed farther and farther, and now all I'm holding on to is the end of a rope. And the rest of the rope's been cut. So there's no going back. I stay here forever. Or I let go.

Forever. Or I let go.

YAH? YAH!

I think about myself a lot. Most of the time about what kind of person I am. You know how when someone's described as "strict" or "punctual" or "uptight," they actually are, all the time. I've been called all three, but I don't think I'm like that all the time. Only with certain people and in certain situations. I'm really fussy about time, though. Especially if you scheduled and you're late? LOL WAZ WRONG WICHU GURL! The reason I asked you to set the time of our meeting is so that I'm assured you won't be late. Apparently, people don't think that way.

I think I'm quite ordinary, but at the same time, not. For example: I don't go clubbing and I don't DJ. At the same time, I'm sort of popular (sort of nga e, wag ka naman masyadong negative) on the Internet and      just a tad more popular in real life. People look up to me for inspiration and leadership (no, really, they do. believe me, it's weirder for me than it is for you).

I'm not mean on purpose, and even though I say I'm a bitch, I don't think I really am. I mean, I don't snap at someone just because, and I'm actually quite nice. Ish. I'm always afraid of people noticing the little mistakes I commit, but when the tables are turned and I'm the one doing the scrutinizing, I just pass their little mistakes off as slips and they're not to be condemned for those.

OMIGOD ARE YOU STILL READING.

I really was going to write about how I don't care about what people think of me and at the same time how I obsess with my appearance and my actions, but I got sidetracked, so...

All is fair in love and war.

No, all isn't. It's not fair when you love someone so uncaring so much.