An ugly habit has developed in me or maybe, it is a habit that has always been a trait of mine but I never had time to notice until recently. Lately, I have started taking notice of how I clench my jaws tightly all the time and I find the deeper my thoughts are at the moment, the tighter the clench is and whenever I release the tension when I finally become aware, my jawlines are exhausted. I can only think of how much damage is being done to my teeth...my entire mouth. I have also noticed I tend to take more time brushing the left side of my teeth than the right side. I have taken points and try to spend equal time on each sides, front and insides. I have noticed a lot of things about my oral functioning in these two months. How if I brush my teeth immediately after breakfast, I am more likely to throw up and its disgusting because nothing is digested yet and when vomit mixes with all the brushing-Colgate-plenty-of-germs-and-plaque residues, which if anything, makes me throw up more. Every day is a lesson.
In the number of years I have lived, I have been slowly unveiling myself like a bud of a plant, from the first signs of a tiny bud to the beginning of flowering where a hint of color petal shows and you are glad of the color species it is, because you were afraid it might be from the species of another - color - alleles. Over time, the flower blooms and you see the shape of the petals and you can touch the softness of it, you can even smell the fragrance it rewards. As expected of the plant, more and more flowers changes the mood of the boring greenness of life and one day, in the fullness of time, the last flower hangs down and dries up. This plant I am talking about is not a seasonal plant and does not go into remission until the next Summer. This plant I am talking about, its root withers and breakdowns and turn into debris and eventually into soil waste. I feel like this annual plant. A hydrangeas can last throughout winter into Spring and blooms again during the warmer days, marigold can't. I feel like marigold.
As a young little girl, I wasn't very ambition - or ambition at all. I was definitely not studious and I wasn't sporty which means I wasn't into sports. If I was good at one thing, it was day-dreaming. I was always a wandering soul, having teachers chasing me around for failing my dictation and spelling exams. Surprisingly, I was better in Mathematics when I was younger than I was in English. I frequently slept in classes in a classy way, making telescopes with my Pets course book and pretending to be looking through the hole, onto the whiteboard when actually both my eyes were closed and totally resting in an entirely different world altogether. Like most lazy students, I was only hyper active during recess. I am a very late bloomer.
As an young adult now, I am discovering my earnest hate for shopping and anything skin tight. I am discovering I don't need to pretend to like everything and everyone but I have to. That it is alright to be afraid and if I don't move my ass, time still passes on but I don't want to move my ass until I am certain it is what I want to do. This is the part in the horror movie where people are screaming for me to run, because the killer is right behind me, what they don't know is that, it is a goddamn movie and the director can make the killer come out of anywhere and there can be more than one killer. I am the girl in the horror movie, someone is directing and so if the rest could just keep quiet while I plan out a strategy to outdo all evil on path, it would be good. Thanks.
P.s: I am watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy and Fringe and obsessed with Game of Thrones, which could partially be the reason why I am stalling and waking up to crumbles of my moral esteem collecting around me. I also have a season of Gossip Girl I haven't watched yet.
Love,
Genisha
In the number of years I have lived, I have been slowly unveiling myself like a bud of a plant, from the first signs of a tiny bud to the beginning of flowering where a hint of color petal shows and you are glad of the color species it is, because you were afraid it might be from the species of another - color - alleles. Over time, the flower blooms and you see the shape of the petals and you can touch the softness of it, you can even smell the fragrance it rewards. As expected of the plant, more and more flowers changes the mood of the boring greenness of life and one day, in the fullness of time, the last flower hangs down and dries up. This plant I am talking about is not a seasonal plant and does not go into remission until the next Summer. This plant I am talking about, its root withers and breakdowns and turn into debris and eventually into soil waste. I feel like this annual plant. A hydrangeas can last throughout winter into Spring and blooms again during the warmer days, marigold can't. I feel like marigold.
As a young little girl, I wasn't very ambition - or ambition at all. I was definitely not studious and I wasn't sporty which means I wasn't into sports. If I was good at one thing, it was day-dreaming. I was always a wandering soul, having teachers chasing me around for failing my dictation and spelling exams. Surprisingly, I was better in Mathematics when I was younger than I was in English. I frequently slept in classes in a classy way, making telescopes with my Pets course book and pretending to be looking through the hole, onto the whiteboard when actually both my eyes were closed and totally resting in an entirely different world altogether. Like most lazy students, I was only hyper active during recess. I am a very late bloomer.
As an young adult now, I am discovering my earnest hate for shopping and anything skin tight. I am discovering I don't need to pretend to like everything and everyone but I have to. That it is alright to be afraid and if I don't move my ass, time still passes on but I don't want to move my ass until I am certain it is what I want to do. This is the part in the horror movie where people are screaming for me to run, because the killer is right behind me, what they don't know is that, it is a goddamn movie and the director can make the killer come out of anywhere and there can be more than one killer. I am the girl in the horror movie, someone is directing and so if the rest could just keep quiet while I plan out a strategy to outdo all evil on path, it would be good. Thanks.
P.s: I am watching reruns of Grey's Anatomy and Fringe and obsessed with Game of Thrones, which could partially be the reason why I am stalling and waking up to crumbles of my moral esteem collecting around me. I also have a season of Gossip Girl I haven't watched yet.
Love,
Genisha
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