This

You can’t rewrite your life. All you can do is write better chapters ahead.

You can’t change a person. All you can do is hope for this person to realize this.

You can’t have it all. All you can do is make do with what is given to us.

You can’t handle everything. All you can do is grab what you can at the moment, leave the rest for some other day.

You can’t make someone love you. All you can do is just love and never expect.

You can’t hide from the truth. All you can do really is face it head on.

You can’t do wrong without consequences. All you can do is learn from it.

You can’t expect loyalty and honesty from everyone. All you can do is be loyal and honest yourself, hoping to be given such in return.

You can’t count on everyone. All you can do is be your own hero.

You can’t trust everybody. All you can do is keep a close watch of yourself, your heart, your pride.

You can’t be good at something without failing at first. All you can do is resist the urge to surrender.

You can’t live in utter happiness. All you can do is be ready for misery to strike.

There are more cannots in life. I just can’t–how ironic–remember them all.

On Cheating

Having male friends who exude the typical machismo attitude can be annoying. For instance, since when is it fine for boys to tell me how they managed to cheat on their already-amazing girlfriends–and tell me the details of how they are pulling this off! Whenever this happens, I snap back at them faster than they could say f*ck. Seriously, the nerve to tell me about these things. Sheesh.

Having been cheated on hard in the past, I know how incredibly painful it is for their girlfriends. It especially sucks when I am friends with the girls. I will never completely understand why boys have to be a complete jerk. If you think your current girlfriend’s changed, if she’s gained a little weight, has stopped wearing makeup, getting too snoopy for your taste–cut the crap and just break up with her! That, dear men, is far more chivalrous and acceptable than bringing another girl in the picture to ruin everything.

Somehow, I know that men will cheat when they get the chance. Oh, especially so when the other woman is willing. Men will unravel the greatest of lies to make you feel secured when truth is, they have us wrapped around their finger. They will constantly throw lies and assurances because, truthfully, some women don’t respect themselves enough to stand their ground and simply say, “I’ve had enough of your lies. Have a grand time f*cking. Bye”.

Men should learn a thing or two about fidelity. What good will it bring to juggle two, three or four women? A man who cheats is a joke, a failure, a dirtbag. He is someone who never really loved us from the start. He is someone snoozing away right below the basement of humanity’s hierarchy. As if it wasn’t enough that they objectify us, they dice our hearts too.

Being experienced in the area, I know now what to do if ever that happens again–I’ll be shipping the asshole to Pluto with a sweet little note: “Don’t get an STD.”

Me

I have problems of my own.

Too bad I haven’t had the time to deal with them. At least I managed to sweep it under the rug, eh?

Well, it actually bothers me sometimes because I can see their tiny evil edges peeping out of the pretty rug fringes. Or maybe I really just don’t want to have to face them ever again.

In the meantime, I’ll busy myself with that I have to do. Yes, even if that means denying myself of the opportunity to cut the bullshit and finally live in total truth.

Wheel

At this precise moment, I am a weather-beaten train wheel. Once a glorified piece of work that served its purpose (?), but now a fading marvel ready for mounting on the wall or perhaps a glass enclave in a train museum of some sort.

Then again, in my world, I am a weather-beaten train wheel with limbs for walking, tongue for speaking and mind for thinking. I may hail from a generic man-made ingenuity, but I am like no other weather-beaten train wheel. With my limbs I need only to grab, a few tools and perhaps walk under pouring rain of grease and oil to rejuvenate my weary bones.

Like a weather-beaten train wheel, I get stuck once in a while. Momentarily useless at times. But still, eternally valuable.