really?…really…

i just sat there, staring into nothing, while the really pretty phillipino hairdresser, ran the iron plates down my hair to make silky, smooth and straight…i like how my hair looks, i like how my sari looks, i like the feel of my graduation gown ’cause it makes me spit out ‘gangsta talk’…

why the fuck am i taking the effort? i don’t care, but i’m following the program…i’m letting the wires fuse smoothly, with out sending out sparks to sting the onlookers..

university was over 5 months back…i was done..then…a graduation, months later, signifies nothing….at least not to me…

here, in this place i live, i’m a star….all this means little…but the little things keep them going, and they expect it all to keep me going.

yes, i know..bloody pessimist that i’ve turned into, has got me spinning in a spiral of negativity…but, man…..really?…really?…..really!…really..i just had to, didn’t i….i’m going to be dolled up, make-up free, but not fake-up free…for something that was supposed to be more humble, more real, more something that was not this thing…

god the extravagance in which my university has dived into…it’s all about publicity, marketing, perfection, the image, and the people…the people that make up all of this? the students, the faculty…they are like rocks in a bag…they make it seem heavy..and if you’re naive it’ll seem like the bag is full of some sort of treasure…(this example excludes any one who considers rocks to be treasures…hats off to you guys)…

“cheer up!”, he said…

“gear up!”, said i…”this quite possible could be the beginning of the end”…

must…own…this life…before i get owned by life…

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s