that's cos i really am not. not cos i refuse to consciously. i just am not. she just called me two minutes ago because one of her sisters (who just came home from the states) told on me that i'm not "malambing" daw. urgh that's so annoying that mom whines, "oh you dont greet her (in her old lady ways that she is so proud of) lovingly and suck up to her. you dont love her. nye nye." oh for the love of all things sane and un-gay, stop being babies in your own warped time holes! where am i, in the anciently used-to-be-recognized planet pluto in 1521?? give me a break. it doesn't mean that if i dont kiss her ass and ask her how she is every 2 godforsaken minutes that i dont want her there or i dont love her or anything like that. she's my aunt duh. i'm supposed to love her. sheesh. i think i've established that, or the universe has at least, since the day i was born.
being warm is just not my thing; that's the reason no one would dare be my boyfriend, seriously. i've shun a number of people just cos they're baduy and i'm not. it's not something that i'm proud of; just something that i have to live with. and they should too. maybe someday i'll learn it but i definitely, i cant force myself to being oven-baked cookies in all situations. my mom says just please be a little warm and grow another heart, and run the extra mile and all that hoopla and i go, fine, while she's here. damn she's so dramatic. overly. the thing pa is, it's just me. not my sisters and my brother who i think never even talked to my aunt; just ME. I GOT GRILLED. NO ONE ELSE. urgh.
in my head i have made-up scripts and scenes of lip locks with brandon boyd, nothing out of the ordinary, heart crushing climaxes but really, i'm not mushy and or cheesy at all. i'm just a creative storymaker in the ole noodle up there.
and for the record, my imaginations are exclusive and so is my warmth. i'll give/show/express/offer it to whoever i want to, whether real or make believe. YOU DON'T ASK FOR WARMTH! THAT'S EMBARRASSING. geez, mom.
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