Me, a loser? yeah, maybe.

I was recently called a loser.

Yes, yes, I can hear your calls of protest, I know, and to be fair I think it was a boy pulling my pigtails.

BUT... It did make me think. Considering the fact that I am now 25, and I really left school at 16 and have only just managed to graduate, I got to thinking about how we define 'loser'. I came up with loosely. So of course we all have our own definitions of success, and yes, mine is not linked with academia or money (which is a real shame, I think I may have potentially been a high achiever if my motivation for making scrap books for friends was similar to my motivation to make money) although both qualifications and dollar are things I realise that I need.

My oldest brother recently told me "you know what, I really wanna be rich, but I just realised I'm too lazy" now my brother isn't lazy in the conventional way, he works full time and still manages to squeeze studying for a degree in there. He simply enjoys the good life, spending time with his new wife, eating well and essentially enjoying the great place he lives in. That doesn't make him lazy, neither does it make him a loser I guess it just means his priorities are different, right?

So if it's just a matter of priority I think that everyone that doesn't vote or take an active part in democracy is a loser. Is that okay? no, not really, I know plenty of people that don't take part in democracy and yes I despise them a little (tends to be only around election time), but not enough to think they're losers, or distance myself from them. Wrecking my brain since the night of the original insult(s -- I was also laughed at for my height, the fact I smoke rolling tobacco, my pay grade -which was by the way the minimum wage- and various other things I can't help) I have only been able to think of one loser, and really, it's only because this particular person thinks he needs to lie about his achievements.

I should start packing, I'm procrastibaking/procrasticooking all the time instead of doing that. Shit, will I ever be able to leave this place? I have too much stuff. What should I be taking to Taiwan? how many evening dresses is it appropriate to take in my backpack? Will I take my hair straighteners? it's exhausting all this thinking. I might go make some Red Velvet Hummingbird cupcakes with Nastasja now, seems like more fun than packing/thinking about packing/writing about thinking about packing.

This track has been on repeat in my head for about three months (since Simao posted it) I find myself swooning over Mr. Homme in the same way I did ten years ago when I first listened to songs for the deaf.