whine v. – To utter a plaintive, high-pitched, protracted sound, as in pain, fear, supplication, or complaint; to complain or protest in a childish fashion; to produce a sustained noise of relatively high pitch. (Source)

Lately, I’ve been such a whiner, continually repeating how my college life is like a condensed matter of tediousness. Something is telling me that it sucks. And I really don’t care about that, except that the droning monotony is incredibly irritating. Don’t get me wrong though. I am really fine with my blockmates, and it really depressed me to learn that we won’t be operating in a block system that much anymore. (Especially since a close blockmate-friend of mine got her schedule switched to the other block, all thanks to the awesome computerized registration whatsits.)

Aside from that (hey wait, I still feel sad about the wretched separation, but we really couldn’t have our way all the time), my subjects emanate tiresomeness that sends me cringing away from their requirements. I am constantly being pestered by the idea of being stuck in a future I could’ve escaped from, of slipping into an inescapable crevice out of carelessness.

Also, I am being crippled by this loneliness, this sense of fragility that I’ve acquired ever since I’ve been seeing less of the people that had been my world in the past, where I currently live at (e.g. AOM0910).

In totality, my current life seems to suck big time.

But an epiphany is tumbling after me. Once again, I’ve been lost in the depths of despair that I, myself, conjured. I’ve busied myself by thinking about the negative aspects of my spilling life instead of holding on to the slivers of hope that lay everywhere in my bubble.

Many would die to live a life like mine. (Oh, please, this is not bragging.) I may not be ultra-wealthy, extra-pretty or mega-famous, but I am wealthy in love and in friendship: two of the most sought after things in the world, two little words that can build a beautiful world, I am pretty in the eyes of those who know who I really am, and I am famous to people who would actually give a damn for me, people who are generous enough to love me and envelop me with care.

It doesn’t really matter if the circumstances I am in right now aren’t much of a kick ass; what matters is that I am kicking ass while I am living in them.


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