The Devil Inside

The Devil Inside?

No, this is not a movie review. I apologize for my misleading title. But then again, primarily, pessimism and devils are the standing general themes of my posts. And besides, he oftentimes referred to himself as the devil, you know, during his failed attempts to make himself appear cool.

And its funny how it was this very movie that we watched, that first time I rode his boat of evil. Why didn’t I take it as some kind of foreshadowing of his legit identity? If Eminem were Slim Shady, he was the Devil.

I. I’m sorry, who? And why the living crap did I get myself into such dementedness of a mess?

I remember he was tall. Some found him handsome, but a handful would, in a heartbeat, contest. In fondness of this creature, neutral apathy was almost non-existent, as there was no in between. He was like wasabi: an acquired taste. You either loved him or just simply abhorred every single nook and cranny of his guts. As for me, all I am sure of is that I didn’t choose the latter. Oh, and I was also pretty certain he came somewhere from hell. But I didn’t mind. Given my jar filled with wretched life experiences, I was confident with my fire-playing skills. Hell, I trusted I could do cartwheels along the nine circles of hell without burning my hands. But I guess I put too much premium on myself, I overestimated my skills…skills I didn’t even have. And now here I am, looking like some survivor from the Auschwitz gas chamber, with boils and burns all over, much further toasted and crisper than I could’ve ever imagined myself to be. This isn’t a cry for sympathy, a weep of misery or a call for attention. This is just I, with my burnt hands, typing my story of despondence and failure of judgment.

I knew what I was getting myself into. But you couldn’t blame me for enjoying every single second I spent with your possessed soul. It was fun. Never had I met a single person who gave you good word. But I stayed, for the simple, shallow and idiotic reason of you being fun. STOOPID GURL.

II. So how the hell am I?

I feel like an ashtray in a college bar; As if people just kept hurling their filthy cigarette butts on my face and fled, without care, without any regard for my poor physique.

But NO, I choose NOT to drown in self-pity. Instead I think of all your flaws as a person (when you are in your human form, you are the devil, remember. Haha).

I’m fine. I’m okay. But I can’t say I’m not aggravated. And since we are now on the note of self-aggravation, let me enlighten you on the little civil war that is at current, going on inside BiancaWorld.

III. Aggravation at its finest. Suddenly it takes more muscles to smile, as frowning has become the staple expression of my face every time thoughts of you pop-up.

I’ve lived to be invincible, or on a more feasible note, the strongest. But one can NOT call himself the strongest if one has a heart. And as it is inferable from my preceding posts, I have come to baptize myself as a heartless being. And to my providence, heartlessness seemed to have worked to my advantage. Wretchedness visited me on the regular, oftentimes in the form of these cootie-filled creatures called boys, whom in lots have tried and left. And hardly would I find myself in such a state of loss. I felt like I was robbed of my invincibility, of my longstanding strength fueled by an apathy that I have worked hard for my entire existence. I lost my precious apathy to someone as low as you. That’s what aggravates me! I’ve vetoed out much more deserving ones and involuntarily gave my care away to a creature of such stumpy value. Aw, I hug myself.

IV. If I go on and on, I would just bash him all night and look like a bitter shrew, or better yet, Taylor Swift after her frequent and horrible break ups with famous dirty old male celebrities. So okay, fine, I’ll just give my regards.

Hello there. If for some demonic reason you find your way to my blog, First and before anything else, I would like to wish you the best of luck in your conquest to make the best self-help book on douchebaggery. Nice word you coined there. Douchebaggery. That says a lot about you now. /:)

Second, don’t mind my beloved friend who takes the sickest pleasure in frightening the crap out of you with death threats and hypothetical beat-ups. You know we don’t have the cruelty to allow such an atrocity. It’s the same logic as to why straight men believe they should never throw punches on homosexuals. Never attack a subordinate as they are of lower capabilities. I know you can’t fight back. Yes, I know, you are capable of getting yourself drunk, wasted as a character from the Hangover and manage to find your way back to your dusty dorm, yes I must admit you are favorably talented in that field. But you can’t fight for shit. So don’t even stress about it. Don’t worry yourself out as we would never allow anyone to make such a dreadful mistake of throwing even a single punch on you. >:D< Remember what I said, you have ignited that inner care I have been hiding under piles and piles of apathy for years now. So I care too much to assault you.

Third, I’d like to once again, wish you some luck. Luck in finding the bigger fish you are out to fry. I admit there are much bigger fish than I am, but that is in context of your shallow standards, as I believe when it comes to sincerity of feelings and other deeper facets I am of much superior quality. With the vast extent of your self-induced tainted reputation, I really really wish you luck. You need it. May heaven bring you the best of luck in your expedition to bag the most number of slutwhores you could get to fourth base with on Date #1. You’re probably exasperated by how dissimilar I am from those girls you normally date. You always told me I looked easy. And it irritated you how you couldn’t get your nasty hands anywhere in or on me. But there are numbers of other fishes there, so go, enjoy yourself!

I hope you understand why I feel like poking your eyeballs out and be using them as billiard balls right now. I know you do. But do not wear yourself out worrying as this too shall pass. I’m talented with all these moving on mumbo-jumbo. Because despite all the brutality exhibited by my words from the very first paragraph, I know I’ve said this before; When the whole world turns against you, you can always run to me, I’ll always be a friend. J