Decipher My Metaphor

When I started smoking cigarettes for the first time, I didn’t inhale the smoke. I kept it in my mouth and puff it out whenever I felt like it. I wasn’t used to the feeling of my lungs filled with carbon monoxide just yet.

One of my friends saw me doing that and was like, “Dude, it’s bad for you, man. You shouldn’t keep it in your mouth, you’ll get mouth cancer.”

And in my head I was… of-fucking-course it’s not good for you! It’s a cigarette, it’s basically cancer factory.

What is this hypocrite advice?

Recently I gained a few new information about myself and I can proudly say that I understand myself completely now.

It’s not all good, of course, due to the fact that we live in a balanced environment.

Although I am at the peak of who I want myself to be at the moment- with all the freedom, favorable career, excellent spouse, remarkable peers, acceptable mindset, etc - I begin to hate myself more.

Yes, I do want to kill myself, but not because life is pointless. Rather, it’s me who is pointless.

A bunch of characters I met in real life and online have reasons to feel suicidal and solemn.

I do not have a solid excuse.

I simply acknowledge the truth that this person I live in hold no merit in life.

Everything is merely irritating to me.

I am a cynical individual but I am in no position to be so selfish actually, because I know there are a lot more people out there that got it worse, yet they still appreciate what they have.

Thinking positively, motivating myself, smile more.

It’s not working.

I pity everyone that had/have to deal with me since I was born till I am at this spot where I’m currently at, they could’ve use their money/will/patience/kindness for someone that is worth a lot more.

Perhaps I shouldn’t exist in the first place.

Perhaps I shouldn’t cry in my workshop all alone right now.

Even this post is a waste of time, ugh.

Sorry, everyone.

I just realized that my preference on men is based on my Dad.

The long curly hair, the dependable aura, the silent treatment, the strong character.

I think the part where I crave for older men is because I hung out in his office so much back when I was a kid and the people that I see all the time are mostly my Dad’s friends.

Is this considered father-complex?

I feel creepy now.

Weird.

Very weird day.

The workshop I’m currently working at is opening a new branch in yet another posh part of town, so that means my boss needed people to apply for the training.

There were 2 candidates, a very cool 28 year-old guy and a flamboyant 25 year-old guy. Both of them graduated from the same college I went to, so it was strange yet fun to bond with them and complain about the place.

So, they asked for my name and of course I answered them as polite as possible.

Mr. flamboyant man was like, “Oh my God, are you Diva the model?”

And he went on and on about how he knew my full name because apparently my modeling photos were plastered all over Facebook and a lot of people in college talked about me, he also asked why I stopped modeling.

Dude.

What?

That’s like… super long time ago though.

I fucking hate introducing myself to people.

The first minute would just be such a waste.

.

It always goes like this:

Person: What’s your name?

Me: … Diva.

Person: You’re kidding, right?/Is that your real name?/No, seriously… what’s your name?/That’s a nickname?/Is that a fake name?/What kind of name is Diva?/Wow, so glamorous!

Me: *sigh*

2 days ago, I met 2 very inspiring young mothers at my workshop.

The first one came to look around and asked for inquiries regarding the classes, she brought her 17 months old daughter with her. They were so loving with each other, I almost self-combust. The clay class was her interest, but her child was still too young for that and she told her child that in the future, she doesn’t want to force her to do something that the kid won’t like. We had a little chat about children and creativity, very smart lady.

The second one booked a birthday party for next week and she just wanted to make sure everything goes as planned. From her features and style, she looked like a former model. Long but nicely done messy blonde hair, black t-shirt, yellow nail polish and amazing attitude to boot. I complimented her nail color and she told me that this is a new hue for her because she always had dark colors on them instead. We talked a lot and she was so cool about everything. In the afternoon, she returned with her son and her birthday girl to show the venue of the party. I guide the kids around and told them about how amazing the party would be, they were so excited but I told them, “It’s a secret for now!” and they got more excited. She told me how much of a good help I was and that made me feel happy.

I want to be a great mother like them, too.

Goodness, I can’t help the fact that they were so well-mannered and understanding!