signs.

i don't believe in fate or destiny, but i think that everything happens for a reason. today i came back tired, stressed, and wishing that uni was over so that i could be done with statutes and theories i don't give a fuck about. it didn't help that dinner today was about ratings, aesthetics, and other things i'm insecure about but don't speak of, because i know that if i did it would come across as a cry for attention. it's funny how pressure can erase the joys of a monday morning sandwich and the warm glow of the sun: pressure to look good, pressure to do well, pressure to heave the pressure off and start. moving. forward!

not that i didn't enjoy dinner, of course, in its very own way. it was nice to see mike again, in all his douchebaggery, and company with jas is always good. i just sometimes wish that good-looking people didn't take being good-looking for granted, or worse, try to deny it, or even worse, genuinely think that they're ugly. sometimes i see pretty people calling themselves hideous and i think 'okay, if you're really content with looking like shit i can rearrange your face so that you actually do.' not everyone is blessed the same way you are, but at the same time, i can hardly blame them. you don't realise what you had, no, not until it was gone.

it's the truth: this world is a shallow place. we're trained to search for standards of beauty. most girls (and some guys) wouldn't be able to resist a good-looking man. but i digress- this isn't about self-reproach, nor self-pity. while this is a personal blog with a current audience of three, only one of which checks this place as far as i know, some things are best left unsaid on the grounds that i likely won't feel them tomorrow. i have my bipolar tendencies, and i yo-yo from feeling like the scum of the earth to the queen of the universe. but i've digressed too far, tread off the path i was meaning to carve.

ahh, where was i? right.

a lot of this afternoon and evening was spent wondering what was going to happen, wondering what my so-called important sign was. i figured it might have been the fact that i did indeed decide to purchase the dress, even if it was through a cheaper wholesaler off modcloth, but somehow it didn't seem right. like there was something else that had somehow slipped through the cracks, and on my way home, right before the tube hit the last stop before my house, i saw it.

if you want to change something, you have to do it yourself. i'm tired and frustrated with my course, my surroundings, but there's only one way out and that way is up. the pretty/ugly distinction can wait; i can think about it later.

when i graduate and get that 2:1, i plan to go somewhere and yell really loudly that i did it.