Crooning on my STEREO: I Believe In A Thing Called Love by THE DARKNESS
It is Chinese New Year and tis the season to be jolly- IN THE POCKET. I've got a week off from pimpin' and I am slacking about getting all fat etc.
One thing I have been thinking alot lately is how long it takes one to realise shits about him/herself.
By this I mean:
It took me 2 months to admit that I am SAD. Lusting over poster boys (ie. IL DIVO) is threatening my social skills.
It took me 1 year to REALISE that my blog template looks completely SCREWED UP on some computers. And I cant seem to do anything about it. (Blame this on macintosh)
It took me 2 years to see the light: JOSE REYES WILL NEVER BE THIERRY HENRY'S SUCCESSOR. See? I am such a goddamned cow.
It took me 3 years and two albums to open my ears to a single fact: DAVID BUSTAMANTE CANNOT SING. He just can't, okay?
It took me 4 years to face the truth that I can sing as well as WILLIAM HUNG. Fuck, if only someone could have told me EARLIER.
It took me 5 years to acknowledge a simple truth about myself: I LACK PATIENCE with nitty gritty issues. Contrary to what people think.
It took me 10 years to SEE that my legs are replicas of TREE TRUNKS in short skirts. Okay I get the drift: This explains why men do not want to be seen around me.
The list goes on. The moral of the story is simple. YOU ARE WHAT YOU ARE.
Pah, kidding. Woof Woof.