Anyway, after I made some space in the house last week, I haven’t figured out what I so desperately need to use it for. There was an ad in the mail about sending your used stuff, which ironically came after I got rid of so much stuff. I meant to send more, it’s just that I forgot what I did with that flyer.
I just wanted to state that, my weight and diet is my business. Leading a healthy lifestyle encompasses everything you do in your life. I’m not sure if I said that right, it probably doesn’t even make sense, but my point is, whether or not I eat right or exercise at all, it’s my life and my body, and I’m the one who’ll have to do it, not anyone else. So I don’t see the point of people telling me that I should replace that those McMuffins with fruit salad or that I should do more resistance training or extend my cardio of which I don’t even do any. I don’t see why people think that just because they had the misfortune of glancing at me they need to tell me what to do about my body. Some of them should probably even take their own advice. So what if i’m not lifting weights everyday? I don’t see why I should spend so much effort building muscle which I most likely don’t even want. I’m the one who will have to maintain those muscles that you keep telling me to build anyway. Trying desperately to be as buff as everyone else is just going to teach more kids to down dangerous amount of protein shakes. I certainly can’t even say at all that all the people who were able to talk so much about how I should be treating my diet and exercise regime even care about my health at all.
I looked a lot worse when I was in lower secondary.
I am now 51.3 kg.
Certainly, I was a bit scared at the amount of muscle wasting that my sedentary lifestyle has inflicted on me, but I will make my own choices, and do something about it in my own way. I would also like to say that a lot of people who tell me that I’m skinny are super skinny themselves. I should be complaining to them about what an eyesore their lanky limbs are, with their bones seemingly trying to box their way out of their hips. I am fine with my current state of health, and for once I don’t mind weighing the amount that I weigh. I don’t care what people think about whether the weight i gain is fats or muscle cause it’s my life. Well, at least I thought I didn’t care, it’s just that they keep coming to me and telling me all this stuff. Well, I guess I have to say that I am glad about how self-deprecating most people are about their weight and their body. Even though they come to me telling me how to live my life, they also tell me what they don’t like about themselves, and I just want people to realize that feeling good about yourself is a real privilege, that I myself am struggling to one day achieve.
Today, I invited Amelia to my house for tea. Everyone else went to Carrefour.
Then, I made this! But it’s largely plagiarised, and I might get into trouble.
I wish my mom would’ve had the chance to further develop her career, so that at least one of us would have been successful. Could it be that everyone in this household never achieved anything they wanted to? That everyone’s miserable and bitter about their lives? Maybe that’s just how it is, and there’s nothing we can really do about it?
I always get very sensitive about the subject of people who wreck everything they touch. Whether or not i’m lonely, it’s my own fault — if I say that it’s my life, then it’s mine to ruin. If I cared about it I wouldn’t have ruined it. I feel like I’ll never know how I could ever be as good as everyone else, because the moment I try to do anything, I wreck something. I never meant for my life to turn out badly. There are so many ups and downs, one minute i’m peacefully asleep and the next everything’s a mess because of me. Even if I always hurt so many people, you would think that I could at least do one useful, helpful thing in my life. But in the long time I was alive I’ve never even accomplished that.
Could it be that there is an only person that I can ever be friends with, relate to, or talk to? Could it be that the only person I can understand is the only person who comes close to behaving like me? Do I have to end up only being friends with my dad? Maybe my mother and I are too different, since after all she’s a good person. Maybe all the time my mother spent with me was just a complete waste of her life because we can never be friends. After all this time, she could only leave not with nothing, but after having given up so much, and lost so much. So it appears Alina and I can’t be bestfriends after all, since my mom needs her appropriately-compatible bestfriend.
I wish my dad wasn’t my only option as a bestfriend. I wish that I could deserve a friend as good as everyone else’s. It’s my own fault for being what I am. I guess everyone sees it, that I’m exactly like him. And all this time I was foolish enough to think that just because i’m good friends with my older sister, some of that divine virtue would easy-as-that rub off on me, or that even more absurdly, people would think that we’re the same just because we hang out a lot. What does happen to Brooke in the end, after wrecking so many households and families? Will everyone really hate her forever? Surely everyone can eventually forgive husband-stealing?