going home, i was in an engaging conversation with my favorite person to have discourse with, fresh out from her training in aim. it’s about perpective, yours, mine, her’s, the world’s. what is real, what’s right and what the war in iraq is all about. ok, it’s an overshoot but you get my drift. but she has a point. why do we do things the way we do it? why do i shop when i am depress? why do muslims, hebrews and catholics fight over, and spill blood, on the most holy place-jerusalem?
i’ve always known. i’ve always known why. and always confided on the fact that this is me. 5’7″, lanky, filipino-chinese, impecable taste, fashion conscious, tree hugging, gucci loving guy. i know my strengths and have played with them to show me off. i know my weaknesses and have downplayed it so it would not be noticeable. this is me flaws and all, and i love it. i love me, even my flaws. for 30 years, this is what i’ve been telling myself.
if you haven’t figured out yet, my life is a big mess. though clad in designer shoes and clothes, poised, witty and intelligent (go with me here), i am a big mess. all you see is the facade, me smiling, sharp tongued and overly secure of himself guy but deep inside is an insecure guy. afraid. lonely. and bitter. that in every purchase, every swipe is a shred of self worth gone. i believe that if i clothe myself with expensive stuff, people would see the logo, not me. i am afraid that if people would see me for what i really am, i would disappoint them, more, they would not like me. this is me in the raw. at a vulnerable state. if gucci was open now i would have shopped there na. i hate feeling this way but i guess it helps me as well. to acknowledge that there is this thing inside of me. needing… keeps me anchored.
it takes a lot of courage to admit your mistakes, more to write it and even more to talk about it. this is me being courageous.