I love surprises. I love surprise parties, surprise rants, surprise attacks, surprise whatever's; I
love surprises. It's probably my adrenaline addiction. However, if I were a cat, I would probably have been killed over a million times by curiosity.
I thought I'd properly guessed the surprise my friends had planned for me for my birthday (I spent the past few days and nights suspecting and analyzing and imagining everything and anything) but if there's anything spending Tuesday nights watching Big Brother has taught me, it is, to "expect the unexpected".
That morning, Vanessa's call got me to metrotown, which I'd guessed would lead to my "surprise" and that night, after deliciously spending the hard earned cash shopping, I found myself in a limo. I was pretty speechless, especially after our little "rough patch". We wasted the night away and I danced for something like 3 hours straight. Like a pro : D
To be honest, I tend to underestimate people's abilities, this time not an exception, especially of those closest to me. I think that's why I get so neurotic and anal and stressed out and try to do everything by myself and is the
real reason behind my nickname, "little Hitler". This is far from a liberating experience, always feeling nervous about what other people are gona fuck up on, on top of what I'm gona fuck up on, on top of karma, coincidence, and random disturbances. Why do I do this? I don't know. I wish I didn't, but I think it's one of those "subconscious racism" or sth that we discussed so much about in Galiano. "We all have a little [doubt] living inside us, whether it's still living in the closet or been discovered." Or maybe I'm just a conceited psycho. But I know that my frustration, although sometimes based on more truth than I like to admit, is unreasonable. And this birthday surprise and times like this, is when I'm happy to be admitted
very wrong. But at the same time, who woulda guessed a limo?!
Becoming seventeen, I looked back. This is the one time in a year where it's acceptable to reminisce and regret as much as I want. Of course without question, I'm extremely delighted and grateful that I made it this far. I'm happy with who I've become and I don't wish for anything to have gone differently. But I can't say I don't have any regrets; I
do wish that I'd
done some things differently. Even if you're only seventeen and have a lifetime to go, there's things unfixable and a point has to come, whether you like it or not, where you have to
accept that how much ever guilt you feel won't change anything, only your own future. It's like sobering up; no caffein, no food, no comfort can heal it, only time. And when you sober up back into reality, hopefully you'll see things more beautifully, more clearly, and appreciate.
When I was little, I used to do this thing where I’d count the number of people that I thought loved and cared for me, then count the number of people that I for sure knew loved me, and then count the number of people who would feel sad if I died, feel miserable, feel neutral, not feel shit, and etc etc. And I went on forever until met my expected numbers and I felt nice and secure inside. But there were times when the numbers just wouldn’t go up, leaving me feeling empty and uncertain and unloved. It is, no matter how perfect and orderly your life is, so easy to feel unloved.
Feeling and knowing you’re loved also comes with how much you feel you deserve it. So the way you feel isn’t random. It isn’t an unfair way of the world getting back at you, saying “you’ll never be loved no matter how nice you are,” because if you don’t think you deserve it, chances are, you don’t. That's why I think most of the times, you never deserve the love you receive. And that's the love that matters the most, the unconditional kind.
So with that, expect the unexpected, love when you feel unloved, and when it's your birthday, don't let even one moment get away, and do not stay sober!
I wish I took more pictures!!!
