Well well.. a friend of mine told me (or maybe it's because I overheard because I was sitting next to her) that she was participating in some pageant. It's strange but I want to join too? Gosh, it's odd even typing these words. I guess I like the idea of some sort of confirmation of one's physical appearance. I mean, growing up plagued with physical insecurities didn't make me oh-so-self-confident. I don't know. My some-what tormented childhood filled with teasing and little admirers left me with a fragile ego that could not repaired by the (fair number? of) potential suitors that I encountered in my early adulthood. (details in another blog entry, perhaps.)
Sheesh... Conflicts conflicts... Yet there is the pain, nope, not really pain, more of discomfort (and probably more ego shattering) of participating and getting rejected. No one wants to fail. Oh gosh, would I one day regret as the window of opportunity closes? I would no longer be, say, under 24/25 in a few years time.
GOsh, I worry and ponder over the darnest thing. Why do I want everything to be perfect!?!
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