On shutting the fuck up

I think I deserve a pat on the back for keeping my mouth shut even in the most annoying of situations. It’s been a long time since I complained, written or spoken, to another person. Come to think of it, it’s been months since I posted something about shitty moments involving the shitty people in my life.

I guess this is part of growing up. You know, like learning how to just suck in all the crap the world throws upon you on a daily basis. What would complaining do anyway? Temporary relief, maybe. There’s something about being able to articulate your emotions into words, like giving shape and form to a muddled cloud of frustration. There’s also comfort in knowing that somebody’s on the other end willing to listen and receive the message, however illogical it may seem. There’s something about knowing you have non-shitty people as friends.

The good thing, of course, is I am seriously starting to become a Master of Not Being Whiny. Even during Facebook conversations with friends, I never bring up how punchable this Shitty Lady at work is. And during English class (oh shit, I did complain about this one), it took me Nirvana-level of self-control to not utter a snarky remark against that Shitty Teacher.

I’d like to believe I am gifted with words, especially in Filipino, and my tongue tends to stay firmly in its place like, never. I can be the most obnoxiously loud and tactless bitch if I wanted to — and moving to an English-speaking country has apparently changed that.

Or at least I hope it did. I hope this habit of staying chill and patient during annoying but apparently tolerable situations stays in me for a long time. I can just always use my imagination: piercing a three-inch needle thru Shitty Lady’s lips and sewing her mustached mouth in criss-cross fashion…fuck, that was almost orgasmic.

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