Hey Zengarmy,

Today is a meh day. I woke up to a full face of pimples this morning
& I instantly knew it was going to be one of those nothing-is-right days.
Just as I thought I've taken a big step out of my old depressed self,
life (being a bitch as per usual) decided to give me a reality check.

Sometimes life keeps reminding me of how unimportant I am.
I feel as if I'm always the unimportant co-star of my own life.
Not that I wanted to believe that I'm unimportant & disposable,
but reality keeps proving its theory and I couldn't not believe it.
I feel like the only time people call me is when they need something.
I'm one of those people who has friends but is never anybody's favorite.
If I don't initiate a convo or ask to hang out, I'll never see my friends.
And how sad is that. Being somebody that people only think of when
they have extra space left on their BFF list. How saddeningly funny.
I'm tired of being other people's backup plan or Plan B. I'm sick of it.

It took me no time at all to realize something :
Don’t put your happiness in other people’s hands.
They’ll drop it. They drop it every fucking single time.

When I was younger, I always wonder what makes a difference between person
who is always happy and a person who is always sad. And I've found the answer.
The difference between a happy and a sad person is that the former knows
that bad thoughts make us weak, while the latter is born with bad thoughts.
And I, with the probability of one over billion, was born with bad thoughts.
There are people living inside of me. Some loving, some angry, some bitter,
some wise and some with no voice. It is a struggle. It is a constant battle.
Every moment a different person wins and that moment belongs to them.
I am so many people that sometimes I become all of them. And at those times,
I am closest to my name. At those times I am not a fragment any more, but a being.

Okay I'm definitely going a little bit too deep here, soz.
To put it simpler, what I'm trying to say is that I'm complicated.
And the word complicated translated in the urban dictionary is BITCH.
Some people say I’m an over-sensitive bitch who keeps ranting about life
and focusing on negative thoughts. But the truth is, I just feel too much.
Every word, every action, and every energy goes straight into my heart.
It is very easy to say that "Happiness is a matter of choice", but is it?
Is it true that you can choose to be happy or sad? NO, in real life.

Sometimes you can only choose
to be sad or even sadder than sad.

Speaking of that, I came across THIS BLOG POST from Nasty Gal
on their interview with c0neja & found it ultra-inspiring to read!

I love reading articles like this. I love people like c0neja.
People who swear because they feel like it & don't give a fuck.
People who dare to follow his/her own voice and block others.
There are several paragraphs in that blog post that go straight
into my heart and I feel like I almost wanted to cry on my bed:

I don’t believe in doing what’s supposed to be done — it’s not for everyone. 
My parents are Mexican immigrants and their mentality is that school is 
the golden ticket. They broke their backs so I could go to college one day 
and I’m really sensitive to that. But sometimes, you have to break your 
parents hearts. I would come home and say, “Look at this art I made,” and 
they wouldn’t understand because I wasn’t making any money. And it’s not 
about that, it’s just like, “I made this.” The art is the payment.

Creatives are very emotional and passionate.
Mentally, I felt very claustrophobic, it was a cloudy time.
Add that to my roots and my Mexican heritage — my family was
very heartbroken when I moved out. It’s a very close-knit community,
but I needed to prove something to myself, that I could break out on my own, 
and I did that. But you do miss your family, family is so important.

It’s tight when I meet people and they have an over-the-top reaction,
but there have been times when people weren’t so hyped over me
because I don’t look like a typical model. I know I don’t look typical.
I don’t have the model height. My proportions are pear-shaped.
I’m just not what a high fashion model is thought to be and I’m
completely okay with that. “I love my body, I love who I am, so fuck you,
I’m gonna look however I want,” has always been my mentality.
I’ve done shoots where they expect me to look super high-fashion
and I don’t, but fuck them.

Not everyone is gonna like or support you but at the end of the day,
you have to grow a thick skin, believe in your work, and tell people to fuck off.
There’s a lot of insecurity in the world. You have to learn how to shut off
that negativity and know yourself. That will open up so many doors.
Doubt comes with the territory, but you’ve gotta bite your tongue with that shit.
That’ll get you to the point where people and their opinions won’t matter
and you can just tell them to fuck off. That’s it. Bite your tongue,
but also, tell people to fuck off. 

I hope that someday I can be strong enough to not give a fuck.

I hope that someday I can be brave enough to tell people to fuck off.
I hope that someday people and their opinions won't matter to me.

Someday. I will be.


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