First Diary Entry. Come on. Bring it ON.... Blank page you are NOTHING for me! NOTHING, I tell you!
Okay, so here it goes. I spoke to Braulio today. Well, in this day and age, no one really talks on the phone anymore.(Technological innovation takes precedence over basic communicational skills, go figure, humanity!) He commenced the conversation today, by means of text.
I question his real intentions. I understand the need to be amicable, but these amorous sentiments have manifested themselves before. I am rational. I am an Objectivist! I do not depend upon the opposite sex for anything! I am my own person! (Okay. feminist Rebecca, shut your yapping.)
I am a failure in the art of seduction (among many other things, but that is a story for another day). If it is a relationship he seeks, I am not the most suitable individual for such a task. I am not capable of emanating such a pure, profound emotion. I am stoic. Cold. Emotionless. Some days I question as to whether I am even alive. And then I feel my breath, and my heart....
Still pounding, despite the evident plaque clogging my arteries. They say that love is not a discriminating emotion, that love does not differentiate between sexual orientation, gender, race, ethnicity... But did anyone mention corpulence? Love does not discriminate against corpulent individuals?
Based upon my prior experience, I highly disagree with such falsified statements. How is certain that the old adage still holds substance, significance, in our superficial, shallow society: Big is beautiful?
It is not beautiful to go look in the mirror, and be repulsed at the sight of your own body. It is not beautiful to have men abhor at the sight of your face, because your three chins obscure your eyes. (Or something like that.) It is not beautiful to tread the mall, hopelessly looking at the lifeless mannequins in the store window, and wish to evaporate on the spot...
It is not beautiful to not be beautiful. (Repetitive, yes I know. I'm slacking here.)
I cannot hold a man, as I cannot hold my pizza. (Wait, does that make any sense?) I don't know. My emotions are greatly conflicted. Does he like me? I sincerely have no idea, where all of this is leading. I cannot go out with him. I simply cannot!
Okay, so here it goes. I spoke to Braulio today. Well, in this day and age, no one really talks on the phone anymore.(Technological innovation takes precedence over basic communicational skills, go figure, humanity!) He commenced the conversation today, by means of text.
I question his real intentions. I understand the need to be amicable, but these amorous sentiments have manifested themselves before. I am rational. I am an Objectivist! I do not depend upon the opposite sex for anything! I am my own person! (Okay. feminist Rebecca, shut your yapping.)
I am a failure in the art of seduction (among many other things, but that is a story for another day). If it is a relationship he seeks, I am not the most suitable individual for such a task. I am not capable of emanating such a pure, profound emotion. I am stoic. Cold. Emotionless. Some days I question as to whether I am even alive. And then I feel my breath, and my heart....
Still pounding, despite the evident plaque clogging my arteries. They say that love is not a discriminating emotion, that love does not differentiate between sexual orientation, gender, race, ethnicity... But did anyone mention corpulence? Love does not discriminate against corpulent individuals?
Based upon my prior experience, I highly disagree with such falsified statements. How is certain that the old adage still holds substance, significance, in our superficial, shallow society: Big is beautiful?
It is not beautiful to go look in the mirror, and be repulsed at the sight of your own body. It is not beautiful to have men abhor at the sight of your face, because your three chins obscure your eyes. (Or something like that.) It is not beautiful to tread the mall, hopelessly looking at the lifeless mannequins in the store window, and wish to evaporate on the spot...
It is not beautiful to not be beautiful. (Repetitive, yes I know. I'm slacking here.)
I cannot hold a man, as I cannot hold my pizza. (Wait, does that make any sense?) I don't know. My emotions are greatly conflicted. Does he like me? I sincerely have no idea, where all of this is leading. I cannot go out with him. I simply cannot!
