Friday, August 10, 2012

Why my ass is too big and my legs are too long for this country...

Coming from a wake last night and I had to commute on my way home. I was already tired from a stressful day at work and although the rain has subsided, pools of dirty water were still present on my usual route. 

I had to take a jeep (and although it's usually my usual jeepney route coming from my (gay, fashion designer) uncle, I had such a hard time fitting myself in the front seat. Then it hit me.

Maybe my ass is just too big and my legs are too long for this country. 

Honestly, I've always had such a hard time. There even came a point in my life when I had to pay for two people. My legs are squished and even when I ride the shuttle to work, I have to practice being a contortionist. 

I can blame it on the genes. My grandfather was tall (I don't know if he was just born this way or years of playing basketball and baseball developed his legs). My grandmother has quite the hips (this I can truly attest to genetics as every female in my family has what they call "(My grandmother's maiden name) Hips".

I can blame it on the millions of jeeps I've encountered. Maybe they truly been built that way... to make me feel so uncomfortable that I have to blog about it for release. 

Or maybe, just maybe... I'm not meant to be in this country to begin with. 

I find it truly difficult to argue with my sister now and even though I detest the idea of leaving (check my previous entries if you want to know why), I am now facing a situation where I might consider it after all. I told myself once that I will only leave for that scholarship... that prestigious scholarship that makes all the difference in the world. That scholarship that will put me at ease and remind me that I did not talk crap all the way through college. 

That scholarship that gets me one step closer in raising my middle finger to him

Then again, why do I have to put him in this equation? The world has turned and everyone has moved on. I also believe so have I. But... there's that sense of payback or revenge that I truly want. The same reason I want to date that guy or do this and be that. I think I'm too into this revenge is best served cold kind of thing. Or maybe I'm just a lovesick fool.

I suddenly have this inclination to run. To chase the sun and never stop moving. All of a sudden, I feel restless. 

I can't help but think that maybe I am meant to leave after all...

...or maybe have my own car. 

Someone Anxious. 

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