Tuesday, July 30, 2013

It might be too early for rants, but I guess it just struck me too hard this time I couldn’t resist not to share. I am disappointed every time. Every fucking time. And I couldn’t ignore more because once again, this morning, I’ve been disappointed.

A group of girls then, probably in sophomore year, just passed me by the small corridor in our college building. The girl with the long, wavy hair said to the other who was taller than her, “It’s the phenomenology of rejection. The fear of being rejected by someone special.” And that itself is disappointment, right?

But it’s just a part of what I am trying to point out.

Generally, we, in our human nature, tend to trust other people a little easier than we imagine we would. I couldn’t elaborate further, but the thought of depending some things on other people often end up in disappointment.

Then I wished I was alone. In that case, I wouldn’t have anyone to blame for my messed up Tuesdays. I want to plan not including others in my busy schedule so when they change their minds at the last minute, it wouldn’t affect me that much.

I just hate it when people tell me they would do something for me or plan something with me and they blow everything up just because of their confused brains. I’ve plotted how my day would flow and the errands I had to run, but it doesn’t turn out the way I saw it would. Because. They. Screwed. The. Fuck. Up.

Perhaps for a sometimes-obsessive-compulsive person, it isn’t a good idea to snap your fingers right in front of my face to tell me excuses for your indecisiveness.