Everyday when I come from school, I “slide to unlock” my iPod and tap on Instagram. Double tap, scroll, double tap and it goes on until I reach to the pictures I’ve already seen day(s) before. Most of the pictures I see are of girls wearing expensive clothes and at nice places. I see the likes on their pictures..
“Wow. 100 likes within 3 hours..”
I pretend like I’ve never seen those pictures and then “lock” my iPod.
“Why don’t I delete Instagram? Why do I get jealous so easily? Why can’t I be like them? Why am I stuck at home?”
I think to myself again..
“Actually, nah.”
And then I drift off to sleep.
A goal of mine is to be beautiful. When I was in my immature stage of life, I use to only think of looks and didn’t care about how my weird and awkward personality can corrupt my relationship with my classmates of elementary and middle school. Since my past of the most embarrassing stage of life is such a blur, I can only remember that I was really weird – or crazy – to people of my age. Still to this day, I am considered as a weird person but a friend of mine since the third grade declared that I make it work now.
Now, being beautiful to me is to act beautiful. How does one exactly act beautiful?
“Just BEE yourself.”
– Genie, Aladdin
Acting weird is being beautiful? Not exactly. I act weird because I want to put smiles on other people’s faces, not only making myself smile. Earlier today at 4 PM, I volunteered at a church [Fish Fry] event for a Catholic tradition when we, as Catholics, fast meat and snacks on Fridays for 40 days, also known as Lent. Our “boss” of the Fish Fry, Arlene, wanted every volunteer there to be put at a shift with different people. Since the event started from 4 till 9 PM, I knew that I was going to be stuck with a volunteer I wouldn’t know for five hours. Thinking I would just focus at working my shift, I thought..
“Hey, why not.”
Since I’ve worked at the Fish Fry before, I tend to make a various amount of friends just to kill the boredom. But then at the same time, not only I was thinking that I was just killing boredom, I could also practice expressing a true form of myself. The new friend I made today is named Emily. She learned a few things about me and I learned a few things about her. I wouldn’t have been able to know a couple things about her if it weren’t for me to act like myself like how I usually act with friends I see daily.
Being fake is not everything. I use to think that it was a shortcut to a way to being where I wanted to be – to be happy. It only made things worse since I found out after my 8th grade graduation. So I just be myself and let other nonsense fly by. I am happy where I stand now.
Life is in the fast lane 