The Day I Swapped My Brain for a Bubblegum

Ummmmm.......

2005-03-26T22:50:00.000-08:00

Wow, where has Bubblebrain been? I've forgotten about her for a while.

Okay, I'm fine. Just been busy. I dont think anyone would care anyway. Hehe!

So anyways, just to give this little bubble face a chance to breathe again, I'm writing something here now.

Blah blah blah blah...

Ummmmm.......

2005-03-26T10:50:00.000-08:00

Things I Dont Understand

2005-03-02T06:37:00.000-08:00

OKay let me just get this straight. There are just some things I cant dig no matter how I try to stretch all my brain cells along with every piece of integrity I have. Sometimes, I read about two lines in a book for 15 times before I can move on and yet there's just nothing on my head. There are moments in some mundane days similar to this scenario. Maybe there are just same things you are not meant to be able to grasp. Or maybe, just maybe, there's just going to be a "right" time for you to be able to understand it. WHen? Maybe when you've grown a bit more mature. Or maybe when you've gotten over your fumbling. Or maybe when you just least expect it...when you try not to give much attention to it. Sometimes that happens. You solve things by not thinking about them too much. The solutions just pop from the soda can. It doesnt happen always though.

Right now, I choose not to make big deals out of things that I cannot understand simply because I have no time and I dont have enough capacity to think about them due to everyday exhaustion.

So ummm, to the things that cause me to wrinkle my head in ponderings deeper than normal... shooo! My head's messed up to begin with. Let me just finish my ice cream for a bit. ;-)

Tired and still blogging

2005-02-23T09:04:00.000-08:00

I'm so tired, my fingers have to be battery-operated. But I want to type something. Here I go with the blah blah blah's again.

I chatted with Sarge just now. I don't know how this happened but our conversations are getting more and more "senseful".... even if we may not admit it. Long ago (which is not that long ago really), we used to just mess around A LOT and not talk about anything serious. But Sarge is now one of my greatest buddies of all times... someone I can talk to about anything and would never leave me hanging or pretend to be offline. I'm not saying this just coz I think he's cool. He owns a Harley and can build a v8 engine in 8 hours! Sarge is just so full of sense. Most people just probably don't see that. I learn a lot about life from talking with him in 30 minutes.

I will forever stick to my belief that you are friends with your friends for a reason...and that youre always going to have something in common with your friends even if you dont realize it (or even if you dont choose a friend with similar characteristics as yours). Yuck, I sound like a cheesecake but I'm just like this when I talk about my friends (And what's so bad about cheesecakes? I love blueberry cheesecake!!!).

Okay, I dont know what exactly my point is but I have just divulged a huge part of myself to a friend. And I learned he understands completely. And completely is an understatement. I don't think anyone can ever understand how someone feels except the person who has felt exactly the same way. I just thank God I meet people like these at the right time. Not just Sarge. There's Ricky D. There's Mick. There's Chris. There's Noel. There's Tin. There's Zara. There's lotsa others. They just lurk around somewhere... even on the internet...and I'm glad I bump into them.

The Day After My Birthday

2005-02-20T23:00:00.000-08:00

The day after my birthday, my grandma died. She's my dad's aunt, the last of my late grandma's sisters. She had cancer.

I remember the time when we first learned she was sick. The doctor couldn't tell her, so my dad and aunt had to do it. She said she was ready to hear anything then, but when she was told of the situation, she was so scared. She felt too weak just hearing that she was sick.

Despite that she wasnt told about what the doctor really said---that she only had a few, VERY FEW, months to live--she was the one who kept repeating it. She kept saying she wasn't going to probably live that long and would rather just let it be.... like she wanted to die right then. She wanted to stop all treatments. She didn't want the cure.

But of course, no one listened to her. She was admitting defeat. Not good. Very wrong. But we all fought for her and kept lifting her spirits up. We wanted her to go on with that fight. Miracles do happen...and that's something that I personally believe, having had my own near-death experience when I was four years old.

When I was four, I died for about fifteen minutes. My heart stopped beating. I used to write endlessly about this before. I kept telling it to friends a long time ago. But I got tired somehow. But everytime something like this happens...everytime death waves its eerie wand indicating its near presence at any place, I remember my experience. There were white lights and people crying around me. And I was sitting on the hospital bed just looking around. I never really understood what was happening. But that is all I could remember of it.

So everytime someone gives up on life and seemingly welcomes death with open arms, I clench my fists. I hate to hear something like that. Life is too sweet to give up on...even if death is starting to do the cradling.

Dying must be a weird experience. I am always boggled by how much time it actually takes to lose our life. A nanosecond? Shorter? I dunno, but maybe it happens so fast, the body doesnt even realize whats going on at that instant. See, I died....for fifteen minutes... but I cant even explain what happened...or how it happened. It was called clinical death. But I came back with more sense. I came back and now I regard life with more significance.

I know there's eternity. Life doesnt really stop at death. But how do these things really happen?

Anyway, my grandma fought. I know she didn't want to, but she did fight. And for that, I'm proud of her.

When she was getting weak, we were all kind of accepting that she might not be with us for long. But I was going to have my birthday. I prayed that she won't go on my birthday. I didnt tell it to her. I just whispered it to God. And God must have granted my wish. She took her the day after.

Her fight isn't over just because she lost her life. She wasn't defeated... because I'm here writing about how she fought. She fought with so much courage. She fought with love. She fought with a smile. She fought. And all our fond memories of her and lessons she taught us will live on. I must have written this line a couple of times before, but despite that I can never really explain how she actually fought, the world will know through me...and all the people who love her... that death never really won.

February... Faith... Fate... and Friends... (Part 2)

2005-02-09T09:02:00.000-08:00

Here we are on the second part... If you happen to have started on this, please read the first part first, hehe! ;-)

.Since I don't have a "special Valentine" to blog about (and here I am nearly irked by the way love is used for marketing purposes), I'm going to write about my friends.

Syrupy as it may sound, my life would be cumbersome without my friends and they mean as much to me as my own life. I mean it. (You may be going, "Eeeek, what's with you?"). So, my birthday is always a celebration of them as well.

I have this great, big belief that friendships can be born anytime, anywhere, by any means. And not everyone is meant to be your friend.

Throughout the 23 years of my life, I've had different stories of friendships. But I'm always amazed by the realization that no matter how different I am from my friends, there are always going to be significant common denominators. Even if I don't intentionally mean to find a person who enjoys something that I also like doing, I always end up being friends with the kind of people who are like me in one way or another (e.g. I discovered that I have the exact same childhood experiences as some of my friends only 11 years after we've known one another; I didnt expect that some of my friends actually write poetry too, also love kids, are grammar-obsessed (hehe, Mick Mick!) or are just plain messers like me.).

It just goes to show that it is not by mere accident that I am friends with my friends. And that is why I value each of them so much.

It's hard for me to trust people but when I do, I trust fully. I've encountered different kinds of people and I've kind of mastered seeing through them by the way they interact with me. I have friends that I haven't even met in person yet but are closer to me than some of my friends nearby. Friendship is a matter of sharing and how much you have shared sincerely--especially of yourself--is what makes it thrive. And if you're not so sincere about it, it eventually shows, whether you like it or not, because it dies all by itself. That is why not all your friends really stay forever. It's also a matter of faith...and fate.

I'm good friends with my parents as well and and my mom tells me that she doesnt have a hard time figuring out who my friends are (or who I care about) because I talk about them a lot.

"Mari opened a new boutique..."
"Monch hops bars every night and still wakes up early the next day..."
"Doie works in her sister's company..."
"Aedsz calls me dude...hahaha!"
"Majo works in a hospital now..."
"Edlyn's takin up medicine..."
"Chabs is in St. Louis."
"The flowerpot gals...theyre all awesome..."
"Celine bought new sandals at Nine West..."
"Kahlil is going to climb Kilimanjaro..."
"Keith is going to Rome..."
"Warren hasn't showed up..."
"Joyce has a new job..."
"Erik listened to me sing on the mic..."
"Chris made me a super cool website..."
"Mick Mick is the only person who knows my entire life story..."
"Sarge is fun and he bought himself a Harley..."
"Stella says I'm insane..."
"Jason's a volunteer firefighter..."
"JC's teching me how to play the drums..."
"Rick has friends from Baguio City..."
"Jon thinks he's a Martian..."
"Ned's a great tattoo artist..."
"Ricky D gave comments on my blogs and poems..."
"Amy has a new boyfriend..."

I have countless friends from all over. And yeah, I talk about them because they are important to me.

On this love month, I want all my friends to know they are appreciated and loved.

February... Faith... Fate... and Friends... (Part 1)

2005-02-09T08:45:00.000-08:00

It's February. The month of hearts. The "love month".

But let's face it. February is the month when love becomes too "commercialized". Don't take me wrongly. I have nothing against Valentine's Day and no, I'm not my cynical self these days just because I don't have a boyfriend. Even when I did during this time of the year, I still hate the way love is advertised. "It's February...Valentine's is here... Time to express your undying love... So take out your Visa or Mastercard and buy this and that..."

It's like the season yells, "Let's love more fervently because it's February!!" Then what happens to the love campaign after the month? It just dies. This is my own opinion though. And I don't care if you don't agree with me or you think I sound too "lovelessly pitiful." Don't feel sorry for me either.

I'm not saying that it's bad to celebrate love. I even think there should be a celebration for every beautiful thing that makes the world go round. I just feel like love is being "overcelebrated" during February to encourage people to buy stuff and that defeats the essence of the celebration. It's just Christmas ending up to be just about gifts.

Anyhow, I have something else to celebrate February for. It's my birthday month (Yep, my burpday!!!)! And if there's one thing I would most likely receive, it would be a heart-shaped cake or candy or whatsoever...or anything bright or bloody red. I get that every year like a birthday staple. My burpday is two days after Valentine's and therefore, red and heart-shaped stuff are proliferated on almost every corner of the market. So, I'm used to getting those too. But as excited as I am to receive greetings from people (and pets), getting gifts does not matter that much to me anymore (except this year, I've been saving up for a Blackberry pager...hehe!). I remember the people who greeted me much more than what kind of gifts I get. I love surprise greetings most especially. Sometimes, friends I haven't heard from in a long while suddenly call or I get text messages from people I thought hated me...or something. These are things I remember forever.

I love my birthday because it's a time of liberation. I have an excuse for whatever silliness I may incur on my environment ("Oh let her off, she's just excited (or confused) about having to face another year of her life...") It's also a time of much much more realizations, reminiscings, cheesiness, and thank you's to say.

It's the perfect moment to review and rate my life as well-- how much I've changed, what I've achieved, what I've learned (and unlearned), old and new friends I have...

Oh and speaking of friends... I'm always excited to talk about my friends. That is why this special blog has a Part 2. It's my sort of tribute to all my friends, old and new.

Dramatic huh? (I love giving tributes!) Hey it's February. And it's my birthday. You gotta let me do this... ;-)

I'm Broke But Not Miserable

2005-02-08T16:01:00.000-08:00

"So when are you coming over here?" I hear this about three times a week from my friends from different parts of the world.

My automatic reply is, "Not now. I'm broke."

And I would laugh. Most of them won't push it anymore when I say that. But one time, someone said something.

"I don't believe it."
"Why?" I asked.
"Because you don't sound devastated."
"Huh? Why should I sound devastated?"
"Because that's how most people are when they're broke."

I laughed some more.

I'm broke but happy, yeah. I dont think that's a weird combination. I know a lot of people who have less in life and are even happier.

My life doesn't revolve around money. People think that I'm this spoiled little brat who gets whatever she wants and goes wherever she wishes to, but noooooo! I know how hard it is to earn. And I've been brought up realizing the many hardships my parents had to go through so that my brother and I would get our college degrees and live a "breathable" life.

It's hard to be broke, I admit. And now I'm broke because of my own doings. So now I'm figuring out how to be "not so broke" again. This is how the learning process happens... You do stupid things, make stupid decisions, spend all you want stupidly, get broke and stupid, and then you work on not being so stupid and broke anymore. That's life. But you shouldn't let being stupidly broke and miserable happen together at the same time because even if you have not much to spend, you still have your life to live.

At least I'm learning from being broke and I'm doing something about it. And I'm just broke and not bankrupt.

I don't need money to make me happy.

Cooking My Dignity

2005-02-08T15:14:00.000-08:00

My brother cooks better than I do. And I hate to admit that so I'm glad he never reads my blogs even if I tell him to.

I do cook, but most of the time, I burn...especially when I fry. And its natural to be scoffed at when you do that almost habitually. My brother, two years younger than me, has knee-jerk quips suitable for my every cooking catastrophe...

"Oh we're soooo gonna' eat charcoal tonight! How exciting..." (dead tone)
"Gee, that's too much garlic enough to feed the whole town!"
"Uhhh...is this chicken or a stone that looks like chicken?"
"You know, I hate to say this but...this is not supposed to be cooked for as long as the time you spend on the shower."
"You see that? That's called a fire. And it burns..."

Sometimes, it gets annoying, but hey I'm trying my best here. And sometimes, it does turn out really good. And I'm glad burning food doesn't really revoke my Nutrition and Dietetics license (That's the origin of the huge mockery thrown upon me). But I'd like to clear that we weren't taught how to cook in college, but to plan diets for different people with different conditions. Mine wasn't a cooking course. Well, okay, I'm still a woman and I'm told it's "not so womanly" not to know how to cook not even one dish. I don't believe that. But yes, I'm embarrassed. That's why I'm trying to learn.

This blog is a tribute to my bro (although he won't read it, hahaha!).

I Wrote This Exaggeratedly Long Letter...

2005-02-08T14:05:00.000-08:00

I am much better at expressing my thoughts through writing than saying them out loud. I'm not a timid person though. I like to talk. But I feel like I miss out on a lot of ideas and things when I talk.

Recently, I wrote a letter to my friend, Michael. I believe it's so far the longest letter I have ever written in my entire life. I'm serious. And it's not even a love letter. I call it... "my life letter" (ugh!).

When I write, all the words just flow out off the cuff and when my mind starts to get blank, I don't continue anymore. I always like to make sure I'm writing far from contrived.

"Damn, girl, you can type!" my friend complained in the middle of reading my letter, but he went on anyway (And I super appreciate that, Mick Mick).

And at that point, I also came to realize there's another career waiting for me when all else fails. I can type. And this is now a joke I tell everyone I send letters to when I feel like they're just going to snooze out while reading them.

It's hard to be totally honest and when you are, you can't help but be afraid of the consequences of total honesty. Most of the time, it fires at you--things change and people change the way they look at you... So when I divulge to people something about myself that is prone to bring about a major change in my relationship with them, I tell them. I write something like, "There's a chance things would never be the same again" or "You might not want to talk to me again after this". It's just my way of somehow preparing myself in case it does happen.

But here's my friend's reaction to that part, "You're an idiot..." Okay, I literally gasped. First, because that was the only thing he said he could comment about my entire letter. And second, because that's the first time I've ever been called an idiot in my whole life directly to my face. I did not react violently to that nor wonder why that was his only reaction to the letter. I take it that the fact that he tells me I'm an idiot for thinking that he would change or not talk to me again means that he completely understood everything written on that letter and there's nothing to be ashamed of.

Sometimes I say things without realizing what effect they have on other people. Sometimes things I say can have good effects. But when I say stuff that hurt others or are not likeable or do not sound good to them, I appreciate it more when I'm told directly... no matter how it may leave me with a huge gasp or a bit hurt. I prefer it when I'm told where I went wrong or rebuked openly instead of having people hide their angst against me.

It takes 21...

2005-02-08T13:47:00.000-08:00

They say it takes at least 21 days to form a habit and 40 days to form a lifestyle.

And I know whoever is reading this, who has not heard of that before must be going, "Hmmm...interesting..." (And you're going to get a pen and write it down somewhere or repeat saying it inside your head feeling totally inspired). I know because that's what I did. Unless you just don't care.

In the same way, undoing an undesirable habit also takes 21 days and if you go on up to 40 days, that's a sure shot at totally leaving it behind.

I'm trying to form habits right now...and lose some as well. I know it sounds a bit nerdy but I even have a calendar-like thing that I made, which I cross out everyday till I reach the 21st day.

So if you feel like wanting to stop smoking, get up early, exercise everyday, eat healthy stuff, learn a craft, stop cursing, stop picking on the guy next door, stop thinking about something (or someone), stop fiddling on nonsense, start adopting a brand new and better you, etc. etc. etc... try it for 21 days first.

Hey, it works for me. But it really should start within a person. *WINK* (Oooh, where'd that come from?).

Side note: If you feel stressed, click on this link: http://www.amishdonkey.com/monkey-spank.php It helps. ;-)

Blah Blah Blah Blog...

2005-02-08T10:48:00.000-08:00

I was talking with my splendiferous Aussie friend, Sarge (not his real name and actually is his dog's but he likes to borrow it) the other night and there were two very important parts of that very normal conversation of so much fun and rubbish combined that made impact on me. (If you're reading, Sarge, yes I am sincere about this).

First convo...

"So it's around 10:30pm in Aus now, right?" I asked.
"Wrong. It's 10:07." he replied.
"Okay, okay. I'm not perfect." I said.
"But you look like it."
"Naaaaaah!"
"What would you like to change?" he asked.
"Nothing. I'm happy with the imperfections" I grinned.
"Thats good."
"How about you? Is there anything you'd like to change?"
"Yes", he laughs. "My memory."

Next convo...

"When are you going back to the States?" Sarge asked.
"Not in many years." I replied laughing. "But hopefully I'd go to Singapore if I get the job I applied for. Been wanting that job to put my life back into track. Right now i feel like i have no direction."
"To me, you looking forward... thats a start." he said.

Why do these conversations matter to me? First, I've not been asked the psychobabble question, "What would you like to change in yourself?" in many years. This is a deep question that would not normally arise from out of nowhere. It is usually asked in the midst of a truly, madly, deeply serious moment (with yoga sessions and candles even). But I commend my friend that despite that we were in the middle of joking around and pestering each other, he managed to shift to that spontaneously and without the corny twinge.

I meant my immediate reply to his question but long ago, I probably had a different answer to that because I was younger. I don't remember though. But if there's one thing, I'd also probably change my memory. It's not because I'm forgetful or anything. But like I said in a previous blog, I would like to program my mind to think that all the bad things never really happened and leave only the lessons I learned, just as it can be programmed to imagine good things to happen.

The next convo, on the other hand, had this encouraging effect on me that makes one smile and think, "Yeah, that's right. I'm on the right track." I always think about my life's direction itself and when it gets too hazy to see, I feel a bit down. But what I always forgot is to look at the starting point, which is my mindset and thinking that I want to get there. So it means that I actually have direction now just by thinking that I want to have it. I've never seen it from that point of view before.

I needed these messages just in time so I'm glad I bump into the right people at the right moments (and disturbed Sarge's dinner that night... Hugggggssssssssss, buddy!).

Side note: Here's my message to whoever says anything bad against Sarge and all my friends for that matter: S-H-U-T U-P! Or ummm get a brain (or fix yours) and say something truly meaningful that would make a difference in someone's life! ;-)

The Night Is Young And So Am I

2005-02-08T09:26:00.000-08:00

Yes, I may be childish, impulsive, aberrant, gullible and...dumb. I look into myself and still see an unrefined person. But I realized, what if I'm just asking a bit too much from myself that is why I see me as someone who still has a lot of growing up to do? Well yeah, I need a lot of growing up to do, indeed. But doesn't everyone? I believe even those who claim to have reached "the prime of their lives" still have a lot of holes to fill in.

I make countless mistakes and I blame most of them on my being young, but it just got into me that I shouldn't really be too hard on myself. These are things that one day, I would be grateful to have happened in my life. When I get old, these are what would make looking back at my young life sweet.

That once I was a careless, wandering, confused, swashbuckling, boisterous little schmo-- this is one significant part of my life that would always make me smile when I look back.

And I will also surely remember that just days before my 23rd burpday, I pondered this important thing.

Being childish, impulsive, aberrant, and gullible doesn't make me an irresponsible person. I still am a law-abiding citizen of the world. I don't like having enemies. I don't make others' lives miserable. And I completely understand the concept of not doing unto others what you do not want others to do unto you.

And the fact that I still have the sanity to be concerned about other peoples' butts while mine just got tossed on the mud stirs inside me a little sense of pride. It makes me feel like I've not really forgotten all the simple nice things I learned back in Kindergarten (thank you, Mr. Fulghum!).

So I guess I'm doing just fine. I'm not really lagging behind in terms of growing up like I thought. I guess its just that I'm used to being around older people and men and women who seem to have matured faster than their ages that made me think I need leaps to grow for my age. Yes, I do have leaps to grow, but I'm just in the right pace. I'm searching for too much and anything done too much is bad. What I really need to do right now is to take a break.

So now, I'm on a break. I'm starting on a new frame. I'm acting my age. I'm doing alright. And I don't want to miss out on all the crazy things of my youth.

Mistakes are welcome. So are troubles. So are bits of obnoxiousness. So are heartaches. Keep 'em coming! I'm looking forward to laughing at them one day. ;-)

Starting on a clean slate

2005-02-07T22:03:00.000-08:00

I love watching Superbowl. It's something that my brother and I never fight over the remote for. It's nice to watch it in the big tv in the living room while munching on carrots (erk!) or junkies...and throwing bits to whoever sits beside you.

Anyhowsk, I've also just made a "big" decision. I deleted some of my blogs. Hey that was hard. I had to stare at them for a moment before I really did it. And I feel victorious. I thought I'd start a new one again but I just figured out that it's probably going to make me a stronger person (eeek, cheeeeeessssssY!!!) to just decide to completely give up on these things instead of just burrying them somewhere, with that chance of looking at them again at one insane (and cheesier) point in time and probably feeling bad all over again. So I just deleted the ones that remind me of the bitterness and stupidities I have done recently.

Geez, I'm turning 23 this month! Where am I headed to?

I'm tired of being childish and aberrant and impulsive and gullible and...dumb. Hmmm...

I'm going to post better blogs. Less gooey and ummm... easier on the eyes.

What the heck?!

2005-02-02T21:32:00.000-08:00

I'm having a huge headache. And I blame it on three things-- 1.) Writing all day, 2.) Men, 3.) Men. Okay, case closed.

I got hospitalized about a week ago because of dehydration. Yes, dehydration. The state where water gets drained from your body system due to some reasons-- 1.) Starving yourself and not drinking enuff water, 2.) A virus that may cause diarrhea or other illness that causes you to lose water, 3.) Loss of blood... And nope, MEN isn't one of the reasons. Mine was reason number two. But while I was lying there on the hospital bed in my pathetic state, I was thinking about...yes--you guessed it right! Men and how i just can't get them sometimes. And I was trying NOT to curse men or start blaming them even for my being in that gloomy room with a dextrose tube pinned on my right hand. I saw my dad and he held my hand while I was having terrible chills and I was trying to be funny and sound alright for him 'cause he was so nervous, but i never trembled like that before in my life. I felt so weak and defeated. ANd I wished all men were like my dad. But of course, that ain't possible. And it's not because I haven't moved on yet from my break-up stint that rage formed against the opposite species while I was there. Maybe feeling bad at that moment just reminded me of all the bad things that just recently happened that made me feel weak and defeated.. All the bad things... which actually just sums up to "that" one.

But here I am and my huge imagination. I found out a new way to dissolve bad memories. If you can imagine good things to happen, then it's also possible for you to imagine bad things to not have happened. So i'm erasing all bad memories and just leave the lessons they have for me. And I know it's possible! I'm sure I'm not the first one to think of that, but I'd still like to claim I'm a genius! Mruwahahaha!

And insane too. But who cares?!

Blurbs, blurbs, and more blurbs

2004-12-22T06:03:00.000-08:00

I want to type and type and type endlessly but I'm really really tired. It's like my insides are still enthusiastically awake and there's so much I want to pour out on here, but my eyes are closing by themselves. I haven't gotten enuff sleep.

But there's one thing I'm excited about. A friend of mine, an IT guy extraordinaire, is making me a website! Yay!!! He told me he's just doing it coz he's bored. Hehe!

I wish I were IT savvy myself. I think I'm going to get a short course on making websites or somethin like that. Hmmmm...

Hey Chris, if by any chance you find time to browse through my blogs again and read this, thanks! :)

Wooooweeeee! Merry Christmas! I just love this season!

Don't shit on it.

2004-12-15T02:18:00.000-08:00

I found myself a new motto: "When others give you love, don't shit on it." I got it from another movie (I don't even remember the titles of the movies I get all these quotes from).

It tells us about appreciating the things that people give us or do for us. It's not just love itself, but even simple things that make us feel valued. Things like a piece of candy when youre starving and there's no other food around...a tube of menthol ointment when you get all-crampy from too much walking...a little pat on the shoulder when you've done a good job...or a cute joke, hug, or word of comfort when you're feeling down.

It feels good to be loved or trusted or regarded as someone special, but sometimes we focus too much on how good it feels that we take for granted how the person who made us feel that way feels. Or sometimes, they dont even affect us at all (What a stone!).

If we keep shitting on love and all the nice things that people do for us, they will eventually stop arriving, especially when the person who shares them gets tired of giving. When that happens, only then will we realize how such little piss ants we had been for taking them for granted.