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2003-06-24 11:12 p.m.

One leg draped over the side of the tub, I sip on my drink and ponder life.

Sounds extravagant, doesn�t it? Do you picture a slender, feminine leg over the side of a white porcelain tub which is immaculately clean, a margarita, or better yet, a martini sitting delicately on my stomach while I relax with bubbles deep in reflection on the meaning of life?

If so, you are wrong. Very wrong. The leg in question is feminine, but strong, very strong (somewhat thick would actually be the better discription). The tub? Aquamarine, stained with rust and peeling plastic. The drink, gin poured too generously into my workout bottle with the suck-top lid to prevent spillage, mixed with some flat diet pop. And as for contemplating the meaning of life, I was really crying over the state of life. My life. A very selfish thing to cry about indeed.

I�d love to tell you this is a story about redemption of the self. About how I find out life is okay, and it�s allowed for people to invest some tears into themselves every once in awhile.

It�s not. I�m writing this a mere minutes after the event. In fact, my hair is still wet, the alcohol still fresh, and my skin still tight from my nasty habit of not moisturizing, so therefore I have no time for redemption. And sadly, I don�t believe it�s okay for me to cry over myself. I�m reminded of lyrics to a song: �Somewhere someone would love to have my first-world problems.� I cry over myself, how very, very selfish of me.

However, it happened. I laid in the tub and though: �Who am I?� I�d share the answer with you, but it�s not a friendly one. I�m seldom friendly to myself, at least not lately. However, I did realize several important things. The most of which is, I am not who I want to be, nor do I see myself having the ability to be who I want to be. The question then arose: Is anyone who they want to be? If so, I envy them fiercely. I can�t ever be the person I want to be � not only do I not have the talent I want, but also, it would disappoint too many people. I�m stuck in this frame of who others see me as, and so the person I am.

I am deeply disappointed in myself.




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