Pulling Legs. Surety.
As dictated by Faranza Syns
To my two most (ahem) valued affairs:
Shikin, and Afzan,
I was just pulling your leg.
Did you by any chance notice the lack of sincerity in the previous post? Heck, I did. It was a myriad of hold-your-laughter-in, no-don't-guffaw, ah-efing-heck-I'm-a-lousy-liar post.
I am sure of myself. I am sure of my writing. Even if I do suck at it, I'm sure I can learn to be better.
I'm about as lost as a woman with a map. (okay, all of us know that women and maps are occasionally hopelessly aty war with each other, but eventually) I'll find my way, eventhough there are times that I might get frustrated and start blaming everyone else.
I might be unsure of what to do after SPM, but hey, I've plenty of time to think it through, no? Besides the fact that Pn Song blatantly, unquivocally, flat-out rejected the idea of a Career Test, I'm sure nothing much is going to come up just to stop me from discovering who I am.
I'm half-way on figuring out who I really am. And so far, if we disregard the petty things that I dislike about myself, I love me. I love seeing what I might someday become. I love knowing that I'm working for it.
I love knowing the limits are endless and my sky is not numbered.
I love me, being unencumbered.
Oh, did that just rhyme?
So what if I say scathing things? If you can't deal with me... well...
I can't do much to change myself. Especially over something as tedious as that. I say scathing things, but I make you feel good, too. It's my ying and yang, dear. Think it over.
The only thing that was truth in the previous post were the quotes. They were real-life, bona fide quotes.
But heck, I've overcome them.
"You. You're weak."
I'll make you eat your words.
Adjudicator, mine,
He was being a prick!
Debator mine,
He is a he,
of course he'd have a dick.
Ouch.
Can we please stop talking about my privates?
Shikin, and Afzan,
I was just pulling your leg.
Did you by any chance notice the lack of sincerity in the previous post? Heck, I did. It was a myriad of hold-your-laughter-in, no-don't-guffaw, ah-efing-heck-I'm-a-lousy-liar post.
I am sure of myself. I am sure of my writing. Even if I do suck at it, I'm sure I can learn to be better.
I'm about as lost as a woman with a map. (okay, all of us know that women and maps are occasionally hopelessly aty war with each other, but eventually) I'll find my way, eventhough there are times that I might get frustrated and start blaming everyone else.
I might be unsure of what to do after SPM, but hey, I've plenty of time to think it through, no? Besides the fact that Pn Song blatantly, unquivocally, flat-out rejected the idea of a Career Test, I'm sure nothing much is going to come up just to stop me from discovering who I am.
I'm half-way on figuring out who I really am. And so far, if we disregard the petty things that I dislike about myself, I love me. I love seeing what I might someday become. I love knowing that I'm working for it.
I love knowing the limits are endless and my sky is not numbered.
I love me, being unencumbered.
Oh, did that just rhyme?
So what if I say scathing things? If you can't deal with me... well...
I can't do much to change myself. Especially over something as tedious as that. I say scathing things, but I make you feel good, too. It's my ying and yang, dear. Think it over.
The only thing that was truth in the previous post were the quotes. They were real-life, bona fide quotes.
But heck, I've overcome them.
"You. You're weak."
I'll make you eat your words.
Adjudicator, mine,
He was being a prick!
Debator mine,
He is a he,
of course he'd have a dick.
Ouch.
Can we please stop talking about my privates?
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