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[17 Jul 2003|02:58pm] [ mood | weird ] [ music | nothing.. ] Blah. I'm confused. Really, out of all my friends, I'm the one with the most self-esteem. I don't really care what people think, I don't tag along with people, I really do love myself. But then again, there's that other side of me that feels...empty? It's like I've been running through life on a full tank of confidence, and then, now, all of a sudden, I'm stranded on the side of the road with an empty tank of NOTHING. I feel so un-Hanh-like. It's kinda sad. I feel sorry for myself. And I hate self-pity. I hate sympathy. Of all things I hate, that's number one: sympathy. Ugh. I don't believe in love at first sight. I don't believe in the storybook, fairy-tale, happily-ever-after, Prince Charming love either. I don't believe in soul mates. I don't believe in any of those things. But I do believe in love. I put my faith in love. I used to think that I didn't need love. I didn't need anyone to care about me. But now I kind of realize that I do. I don't expect to fall in love anytime soon. But I've always held the hope that I'd find someone to look past my appearance and see what's really there. I'm a nice girl, really, I am. Refer to Sermon 3: Heartlessness in the Gospel Journal if you don't believe me... Off to Great Adventure with Dee and Andrew later. Finally. Anything to get out of the house... ::Hanh 1  shoot me

Sermon Three : Heartlessness [16 Jul 2003|10:29pm] [ mood | determined ] [ music | Ani Difranco // Amazing Grace ] Sermon 3: Heartlessness. Okay. So this isn't really a sermon. It's more like...a confession. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. I've been feeling very lonely. Maybe it's the humidity. Maybe it's pms. Maybe it's hormones. Whatever it is, it's tough. And I don't believe I've ever felt this alone. I really need to get out some more... Anyway... Anyone that knows me, knows that I can be a real bitch. I don't care what people think. I don't give sympathy. I don't tolerate idiocy. I'm very sarcastic and outspoken, and my friends find my brutal honesty fun. But there's another side to me that most people don't know. Underneath all those layers of cold, uncaring bitterness, there's a soft spot...deep, deep, DEEP down. It's like I'm a Snickers bar. Yes, that's right, a Snickers bar. I have a top layer of hard chocolate, sure. But underneath all that toughness, is a gooey, chewy, soft caramel center. That's a Snickers bar, right? Or is it a Milky Way... Anyway, here's my point. I'm a little rough around the edges, but bring me a chick flick, a tissue box, and hot, buttered popcorn, and you've got Hanh, the mushy sap. My "anger" and cynicism is just a way of weeding out the phonies. People that think they want to be my friend get a taste of my snippy bitterness and flee. But those that are genuine and really there for me, they stick around and they get the pleasure of hanging out with the friendly, wholesome Hanh. Yep. It might be hard to believe, but I am a nice girl...deep, deep down. So, there. For those of you that care enough about me to read my ever-so-interesting journal, here's a little insight to a seemingly heartless bitch. :] Random: I probably won't be writing for another after a month or so. Talk 'n Jot has abruptly decided to CHARGE people. So yeah. I'll find another journal community. Don't you worry. Like you care... shoot me

Sermon Two : Apologies [16 Jul 2003|10:26pm] Sermon 2: Apologies. Sorry. What does it really mean? To me, it's just a five letter word that's spit out of someone's mouth when they see that they've done something wrong. They don't really mean it, of course, but they say it anyway. I used to think that it was a useless word. It didn't mean anything. No one knows how it feels to be sorry anymore. No one knows how it feels to regret anymore. The truth is 'sorry' doesn't take back what was said. 'Sorry' doesn't correct the past. 'Sorry' is just another airbag, to ease the shock of the impact. You say things you don't mean and you say sorry because you're supposed to. You bump into someone in the hallway and you instinctively say sorry because that's polite. Yeah, not meaning what you say is polite. So the next time you utter that word, think to yourself. Do you really mean it? *Hanh Random: I need to hit the treadmill today. Lots of calories to burn from yesterday's midnight chocolate cake binge. shoot me

Sermon One : Posers [16 Jul 2003|10:22pm] [ mood | accomplished ] [ music | Ani Difranco // Dilate ] Okay. I was reading this book last night entitled "The Gospel According to Larry". It's about this smart kid who's bored and makes a website devoted to teaching people about the dangers of consumerism through "sermons" (which are more like essays, actually). And so I thought to myself: Why can't I do that. I'm not exactly a pro at mastering the internet, so I thought I'd start here, in this journal. The thing is, I'd post about my life, but really, summer's just boring, so from now until the beginning of school (if things don't get exciting), I'll be writing some sermons of my own. They won't deal with consumerism, 'cause lord knows how much I can't live without buying cds. Sermon 1: Posers If you attend school, you know what this term means. But if not, I'll clear it up for you. In a nutshell, a poser is someone who pretends to be something they're not. In most cases, this word is used to describe someone that tries to be into the punk/underground scene, but ends up listening to Good Charlotte and Simple Plan. Ugh. But the essence of the word is that it describes ANYONE who isn't being real. With that said, are you a poser? Middle school. Oy vey. A melting pot of pubescence and raging hormones bottled in cement walls and tile flooring. Not fun. In this germ-filled kingdom of immaturity, it's very difficult to be yourself. We're always pressured to do things we don't want to do, say things we know are wrong, and agree with people we know are stupid. Why do we do this? Oh that's right. Acceptance. I don't know about you, but I would much rather be accepted by myself than by a large mass of people I don't know. When you look at yourself in the mirror, are you being true to yourself? Is your appearance on the outside reflecting what lies inside? Or are you constantly worrying if a certain someone will approve of your look? I see so many cases of poserdom that you'd be surprised. I estimate that only about one out of four people are being true to themselves. ONE OUT OF FOUR. Where do you fall? P.S. I'm a girl :] Random: I fell asleep with the light on last night because I was so scared. I heard voices. Muffled, gritty voices that sounded like, if you were to record them and play them backwards, it would be some scary message or something(it was late, I wasn't thinking straight). I heard screams outside and a girl's voice that sounded like she was outside my window, looking for someone...Wow. I've never been that scared in my entire life. shoot me

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