Pills that numb the pain, pills that steal our appetite. Consciousness ebbs away from our minds…what? Nah, it’s nothing…nothing compared to the soulless empty shells we’ve become. It’s nowhere as painful as the breaks in my heart, Nowhere as painful as the moans that escape the tightly shut door. Furling smoke engulfs our senses, and for a moment we pretend to be free.

I’m about to sound ruthless:

I am sympathetic to your cowardice and even your ignorance. I willl listen to your sob stories and understand them [well]. However, don’t waste my time. Quit yo fake shit with me.

Yeah, I got “insecurities” and “issues” up the ass just like the next person. Just like you, buddy! So I’m always listening to what people say. Some say to not take another’s words to the heart, but I really have to combat that. Why not? If there’s no weight- no value- in our words and actions, then don’t they become meaningless? Everyone’s afraid of being deemed insignificant, but everyone throws their words around so casually. I always hear: “Alice, you over think things.” or “You care too much about people, Alice.” Heck, there are times I wish I could let go of the humanitarian side of me…it can be bothersome. Hah! I don’t think I can ever let go of my people-watching ways. Always watching, always learning, always absorbing what you’re doing. Now, some say this is a waste of my time, of my life - Why are you spending all your time looking after others and doing things for others? I guess I just don’t know how to keep up with today’s level of selfishness. However, please don’t begin to think that I’m trying to analyze you, trying to figure you out. I am, but I’m not. I just want to know you, but I don’t pretend to know you. Get it? Get it. Bottom line, I like people. People just don’t like me.

Once, a girl said to me, “Alice, you’re so inclusive.” I had to stop and think about that one… It made me happy. Seriously. I think in a world full of pretense and ambition, where acceptance and true love comes off as creepy and cold, I was touched for the first time in a long time. I really wanted to believe those words.

I don’t know. What I find important, people laugh at. To fit in and “get ahead” I would have to become something I loathe. But to stay true to myself I would get “left behind”. I don’t know, man.

It’s raining shitballs, 50゜(feels like it could be less) and I have my first semi-serious physical injury of 2k12. Yup. Dude, I wanted to go dancing in the rain. Pshh.

I’ve always been accident-prone and am the owner of some real wonky joints (not bud, but the kind where two bones meet)…so, not a stranger to bruises, scars, cuts and falls, sadly. Anywho, this particular sprained ankle is the product of a misstep, a misjudgement, 5 inch platforms, and a struggle with a purse strap in the dark. It was a short tumble and a few steps later when I found myself with scraped hands and a twisted ankle at the bottom of the exit stairs of the theatre room. With my nonreactive company watching on, I ended up hoisting myself onto an aisle seat and conducting a quick check of my ankle. After some rubbing I figure I could at least hobble to the car and catch a ride home. Then, of course, after having successfully hobbling to the parking garage and later from the car to my front door and up the stairs, I wrote off my sprain as another regular, insignificant, baby sprain. Oh no…

Waking up the next day and attempting to stumble to the restroom to take my morning piss was a real feat. My ankle had ballooned up overnight and was relatively immobile. I haven’t had a sprain this bad since my childhood-frolicking days where I sustained enough injuries to squish any dreams of playing soccer/basketball or doing cheer. C’est la vie. Well, here I am — got a Tensor wrap on and becoming unreasonably annoyed that it takes 3x longer to move anywhere, cursing the stairway in my condo, and trying not to think about how each step is just a further promotion of nonalignment and dis-symmetry in my body.

Let’s see how buff my other leg becomes with me hopping around. Hoping it’s all better by the start of Spring Semester… :)

Fuck yeaaahhh seafood chow mein!!!

I super dislike octopus :(

My current obsession:

I realised I have trouble eating in front of others. Unless I know them quite well or we share an equal love for EATING/food, I feel super self-conscious eating in public….generally. Sometimes it gets so ridiculous I cannot eat in public at all unless I’m with someone. Why? Probably because my true self is a tad bit grisly :) No kidding, LOL. I eat like a pig. I inhale my food. If you’ve seen me eat, you know what I’m capable of. I’ve attained titles like BOTTOMLESS PIT and FAt KID. hahahahahaa I wanna say this developed from eating with guys a lot, but maybe I just am a fat kid. I usually eat faster than and as much as, if not more, than my guy friends. (Females PALE in comparison - like, get off the platform.) I often write this off as survival skillz AHAHAHAHAHAA….cos who knows when your next meal will be, right??? OK, so how does this fat kid become afraid of eating in public? Lately, people have been telling me I’m fat. I’m super insecure when it comes to image, so yeahhh….. lots of telling me I’m getting flabby and unfit totally kill my public eating habits. But it’s okay…I enjoy eating in the privacy of the Alice-cave, where I can wear no bra, sit with my legs propped up, nurse a beer in one hand and stuff my face with the other. FAT KID WILL NEVER DIE. lmaoo

PS. I ESPECIALLY HATE EATING WITH A DUDE WHO EATS LIKE A BIRD. my god..

PPS. I forgot to say: I went to King Taco for the first time a little while ago. I remember people raving about it all the time but I never went even though it’s so close to my house. Anyway, that day as I passed by KT, I decided to give it a go and got food for myself & my fam. I only bought for 4 people (4 tacos, 4 sopes). Let me just get this out first: KING TACO FUCKING BLOWS. I have no idea what people were so crazy about, maybe I ordered the wrong thing? Or went to the wrong branch? (Soto/Cesar) Their shit was fucking small. And they were not cheap - like average was $2-$3 per piece. My total was a little over $20. WTFsaurus. The tortillas were extra oily with a disgusting aftertaste. The sopes were fucking hard!!! The meat was not memorable. The salsas were gross. The best part may have been the horchata (which was fuckin mix horchata you can buy at the store for wayyyyy cheaper). I definitely could have spent the same/less at a food truck or little food stand and gotten better quality, better tasting food. King Taco sucks big hairy, sweaty bawlz. Don’t ever go thereeeeee!!!! LOL seriously. I felt embarrassed bringing such shit quality food for other people to eat. The gaudy decor should have kept me away. Even El 7 Mares is a tad better. Grand Central wayyy better. But nothing beats food truck.

Don’t you hate it when a singular bad thing happens (and sometimes it keeps building afterwards) and ruins your otherwise okay day, being strong enough to stank out the rest of your day’s moods? Yeah.