We met five years ago. I've never paid much attention to her because she was never in any of my classes and rightly so, why would I waste my efforts? Throughout these five years I've noticed, above many other things, how bad her clothing is. Her clothes are from centuries past. Even grannies have better clothes than her. To make matters worse they're not hand-me-downs, they're new. I'm not being elitist, I'm just stating the truth. I cringe whenever I see the clothes she wears, much like how I cringe at the monstrosities of the 90's because *dun dun dun* they're the exact clothes she wears. Please unread the following if it strikes a chord. The school dance was on a couple of days ago. %, DON'T YOU DARE FUCKING DRAG ME DOWN WITH YOU, I AM THERE TO HAVE A GOOD TIME AND NOT THERE TO KEEP YOU COMPANY WHILE YOU STRUGGLE WITH PROBLEMS YOU BROUGHT UPON YOURSELF.
Superficiality aside, she has no taste, no direction and has no mind of her own. She is a sheep and it's rather obvious every single way she expresses herself - consciously or not. % has no independence and is reliant on everyone around her. A weakling (being hypocritical, but at least I know I am being so). I remember as clear as day when I was walking with her to her locker with another friend when she told me 'You are so independent, I wish I was as independent as you' - GURL YOU AIN'T TRYINNNNNNN'. She thrives on the directions of others but only manages mediocre results. I'm not one to make commotion but this is dire. I cannot stand weak people. Do you really need someone to go with you to microwave your meals, go with you to the toilet, go pay your school fees, heck HAVE SOMEONE WITH YOU ALL THE FUCKING TIME? Can you honestly not deal with tiny, insignificant stresses on your princess life? You know, because having a lot of things to pack and put into the truck of a car is super stressful. I am begging you, %, grow the fuck up and also half a brain. As a friend I am on my knees pleading you don't spread your traits in the gene pool before you see you need to change and have changed.
I shouldn't really be bringing her family into this. From what I've gathered they're hardworking blah blah blah (who cares). However, their house is just as tasteless as %. There is no coordination, no rhythm throughout the entire house. It is rather a rough conglomerate of crap and more crap. I see people's houses as a reflection of them. The way they arrange furniture, the furniture itself, the paints they use, their kitchens and what's in them, lighting and appliances reveal a lot about what they value and how they live their lives. To say the least, almost everything they represent is what I despise.
Honestly, I've been anticipating this moment at which time I punch the keys beneath my fingertips at snail's pace to dig my brain for things I like about her (they're rare treasures in my crap filled brain). So far I've only decided she's only good for company when there's no one else. She's generous with her food but most of the time it's crap (though not as crap as the shit I pack for myself). Watch this space. ... and also the above space BECAUSE IT'S NEVER GOING TO SHRINK.
Oh and % please stop taking photos of yourself. No one cares for the stupid, default faces you make when you hold your camera an arm's length away. I wish the light from your flash floods and over exposes each of the untaken photos of yourself.
I'm certain these traits hadn't developed in the past two years so it's completely my fault for turning a blind eye and overlooking these flaws. Usually I would ask 'how could you live with yourself' but I realised she doesn't. She lives vicariously through the actions and directions of the people around her. For the record, I'm not nasty, just honest. Being in this time of self-determined flux I've been able to see more objectively and realised I associate with the wrong crowd.
All this harsh honest is justified by how much I want to change about myself. Criticism is justified when it's constructive and I'm applying it both to % and myself. I am aware I haven't done the latter but you can expect a post dedicated to that cause in the very near future.
Dear God, I Hate Myself by Xiu Xiu is the accompanying song to this post.
Today was the walkathon. Last ever walkathon. Our stall made a lot of profit mainly from asians who like eating asian food. Being an academically selective school full of asians, we were busy. So busy I didn't have a chance to eat. That brings me to another point whereby I am able to criticise. If you're working at a stall, YOU DO NOT EAT WHILE YOU ARE WORKING. I know it's only the school walkathon but it's fucking unprofessional. It's like if you're working at Coles unpacking boxes of chips, you don't open a pack of chips to eat while you're putting those packs on the shelves - SHIT AIN'T RIGHT. (needless to say, % was a part of this, whoops there I go again, another clue for the nobody/nobodies who read this blog.) I would rather starve for a day than eat on the job, which I did. I also used my shredded shirt to good use. I used my excuse 'LOOK AT MY FUCKING RAGS, THIS IS WHY WE NEED MONEY, THIS IS WHY YOU NEED TO BUY OUR STUFF' in advertising in conjunction with T's 'TOOOOOO DOLLLAAAAH FIFTEEEEEEEE' in her ridiculous asian accent to draw in customers. It did not help.