19th
How do you say it?
I asked my aunt, “How do you say ‘fed up’ in Vietnamese?” She ignored me and just continued to ramble on about her dilemma.
I haven’t felt like blogging in a while because I couldn’t figure out how to gather my thoughts. I don’t think they’re really gathered now, but I’m just so fed up.
First of all, I’m sick of all of you. I’m having no problem being alone lately, because I just don’t want to be around negativity. I don’t usually come up with new year’s resolutions, I just keep them in my head. The one that’s been flaring in my mind is to just stop taking shit from people (excuse my language). Just because you can say something mean to my face and I won’t say anything back, it doesn’t mean that I’m not imagining setting a grenade off in your mouth. It doesn’t mean that you don’t kill a little bit of me because I feel like I have no choice but to let you eat away at my dignity while I choose to be polite. It doesn’t mean I won’t feel unpleasant when I have to respect you less. Are you starting to understand where I’m getting at?
You know who you (plural) are. You think it’s cool to call me short, pizza face, fat, or ugly? You think it’s fun for me when you make fun of the way I speak? You think it’s cool to embarrass me? It’s only fun for you. The words slip out of your mouth so easily, but land and nest in my mind with no intent of leaving. I think you’ve just become comfortable with me not retaliating. I think you’re comfortable with me being that one person you can just let that inner evil out at. I don’t want to be that person anymore.
I guess I’m to blame for letting it go on for so long, but what kind of person does that make you for abusing that power over me?
Maybe you’re thinking: “Why is she being such a girl?”
I’m sorry, but I can’t choose to ignore the things you say. You’re supposed to be my friend, but you can’t even understand when you’re hurting me. So, where does that put us? Yeah, I should say something, but it’s not easy. I want to be cool and just joke with you, but sometimes I reach a point where I need to turn away for a brief second to halt the expression of pain spreading on my face.
I’ve mentioned this before, I’m a person who likes to make other people comfortable I don’t like putting people at the chopping block when they speak out of order. I like to keep the atmosphere happy and easy. However, I reached the point where I don’t want to sacrifice my own dignity to create that for you.
If I’m going to continue to rant, I guess I’ll just talk about a whole vat of things I can’t stand anymore.
Fake friendships. I hate calling people my friends now. I’m satisfied with being able to count the number of friends I have on my fingers. I don’t want anymore “sometime” friends. I want you to be my “anyway and always” friend. I can only find few people who really have my best interest in mind and really care about me. They’re the ones who are reliable and want to be with me through my moments in life whether happy, sad, or plain.
I realized I’m losing more and more friends as each year goes by. Maybe I’m not putting in effort, but I wish they would too. This whole idea of a “sometime” friend doesn’t cut it for me anymore. I hate having to rehash our friendship once a year or whenever I see you of the few times I actually do. With you, I feel like I’m that kid who waits for their dead beat parent to come to their birthday party. Hopeful and wishful always. Now, I’ve reached the point where I just want to be realistic about the fabrication we created. I don’t want to call you my friend because a “sometime” friend is just a part time job for you. Nothing serious and unprofessional.
I understand we’re all becoming adults and creating our own separate lives. So maybe it’s necessary to shed off the things you once thought were necessities.
Lately, I realized I don’t enjoy all company. People think I can easily engage myself. People think I am easily amused and I like everything. The truth is, I’m finding myself more and more bored when people talk to me. I laugh at your jokes out of politeness. I reply hoping you’ll stop talking. Not to be mean, but I think this is me growing up and learning how to be selective. Because of how I expressed myself before as the girl who got excited over everything, people tend to not take me seriously. They just zoned me out. They didn’t care about my opinion. I’m not that girl anymore. So please take me seriously. Please listen to me. IF I TELL YOU TO FUCKING MAKE YOUR RSVP CLEAR BY WEDNESDAY, DO IT (excuse my language). I’m so sick of you not taking me seriously and then having to deal with how immature you are. I seriously just want to gouge your eyes out.
I just really needed to get that off my chest. I don’t want to create any form of drama. I’m going to have a lot of, “Who do you think she’s talking about?” To save you all the trouble, it’s you. If you’re reading this, it’s you. Stop wondering and just be better for me before I explode.
Please take me seriously for once,
Jennifedup
Listening to: The xx
