Beberapa hari terakhir ini, setiap kali gw denger curhat dari tmen gw, advice yg gw bisa kasih cuman satu:

Ya..ambil hikmahnya aja.

You can tell that I'm not much of a teman curhat. That also explains why most members of the opposite sex are not attracted to me. But other than that..

Gw baru dapet nilai midsemester test. I got 50%. Which is very fair, considering that I've skipped every Monday lectures because there's a clash with my geology subject. So I only go to half the lectures, and I got 50% on the test. Interesting. Now, say if I go to all the lectures, theoretically I'd get 100%. Heh.

In other news..

I'm going to start sending application mails for vac work this Monday. Hope it turns out well. I'm not going to stay here for 3 months doing nothing.

Well, there's Nandos..

..

You know that feeling you get when there's so much shit coming your way that you'd black out for a few minutes, not remembering what you're doing, or what just happened in the last few months..

Well, here's the thing. I wish I could feel blank for a long, long time. Oh fuck. Whatever happened to .. my ability to write. I think something's wrong..I.. can't write. This is not coherent. This is not coherent. Somebody please help me.

Fuck.

Gw baru sadar kalo ternyata hidup gw tuh udah.. tumpul bgt. But will it be any different if, say, I still believe in God? Would it make any difference?

Probably not.

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Sebenernya itu udah general knowledge kalo cara berpikir cowok jauh lebih lambat dari wanita. Khususnya di hal2 yang perlu reading between the lines, or finding the subtext in a statement. Buat org2 kyk gw yg otaknya memproses data lebih lambat dari tiga ekor sapi (with combined brain power), realisasi biasanya datang setelah a) makan yang banyak atau/dan b) substances yg bisa bikin otak jalan.

Ternyata, ignorance is bliss. Dan statement itu gak overrated. Ketika lu sadar kalo sebenernya yang dia mau itu Z instead of A (i.e. opposite dari yg elu mau), you'll go "Oh" seperti orang yang baru nabrak motor yang isinya satu keluarga (bapak, ibu dan 3 anak.. satu di depan, satu dipangku, satu taro di atas pundaknya ibu)).

Haduh haduh..

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This is me, in the eyes of this girl and her friends: an ugly, desperate idiot who hasn't taken a shower in days.

Maybe they didn't know that yet. But now they do!

Hidup tuh kejam. Kenapa gw harus males mandi? Kenapa gw gak suka pake pakaian yang rapih? Kenapa gw gak suka mandi? Ya ampun ya ampun.. Gw tau ini gak ada hubungannya ama fakta kalo gw baru bilang kalo hidup itu kejam. Hidup memang kejam, tapi gak ada hubungannya ama saya yang gak suka mandi. Itu urusan lain lagi. Tapi memang benar kok, saya jarang mandi. Kalau liburan. Sekarang saya lagi libur, jadi males mandi.

Jangan jadi geli gitu dong. Ketawa aja kenapa? Hahaha.

Tuh, ndak susah toh mba ketawa.. hidup tuh harusnya jadi sebuah lelucon, bukan tragedi.

Kok saya jadi ngeblog dalam bahasa indo yak. Ya udah lah ya, yg baca jg mba2 di rumah yang ngomong indo terus setiap hari. Saya tau kalian suka baca blog saya. Halo mba, lagi make apa? Oh, daster. Kalo saya boleh tau, warnanya apa mba?

This is the part where you guys throw up.

Kalo mba2 di rumah gak ngomong indo, ya ngomong apa toh, jawa? Ya, itu mungkin. Tapi yg jadi pertanyaan, dan yg saya jg pertanyakan, ini yg baca blog ini mba2 ato mas2 ya?

Soalnya kalo mas2 ya, wah, geli jg ya, mas2 baca blog mas2 lain. Gw ga tau kenapa geli, tapi ya.. geli aja. Gw bayangin mas2 kumisan suka baca blog gw, ya gak lucu toh. Ntar gw distalk. Ama kumis berjalan. ARGH TIDAK.

Kok kita jadi bicarain kumis?

Anyway, selamat malam. Muah.

This is the part where you guys throw up for the second time, karena muah itu tidak ada di dalam kamus cowok yang ngeblog, kecuali cowok itu agak2 feminin, which in this case is not entirely true. Mungkin benar kalau cowok ini memang agak2 sensi terhadap beberapa isu, seperti kasus dimana dvd2nya dicolong sama anak2 yg tinggal satu bangunan ama dia, tapi dia tidak sefeminin itu. Iya toh mba?

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Hi. My name is Putra and I'm a compulsive eBay shopper.

"Hi Putra. Why don't you tell us your story"

Well, ever since I joined eBay, and discovered that I can pay for my items using bank transfer instead of Paypal, I can't stop shopping. In the last few days, I have bought three DVDs and a couple of video games. Might seem small to you guys, who I'm sure are.. worse than me, in terms of.. compulsive spending. You with your eBay-purchased shoes and shirts.

"That's true"

The thing is, it's so cheap to buy stuff from eBay. Check this out, I bought Blade Runner: Director's Cut for only 8 dollars. The actual retail price is 40 dollars. Might seem like a small amount to the rest of you, but this is where it begins. And before I know it, I'd be buying a new SLR and eventually, a boat or a house or a pony or something.

The way I see it, this is like having a JB Hi-Fi built next door. With much better prices and minus the emo kids. Oh yes.

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I have 12 more days until uni starts. And.. I need to get some things done before then.

- Finish the first draft of Kota Kembang: What is Kota Kembang? No, it's not softcore porn. It's this movie script that I've been working on since January. I'm halfway through the story, and it's 70+ pages already. That's huge. So, what is Kota Kembang? It's about a man who realises that he can't really run away from his problems, as in the end his past will always caught up with him. The main themes of this film are the escapist tendencies and uncertainties as one emerges from adolescence to adulthood.

- Start on my assignments: Doing it as I'm typing this entry. Multitasking.

- Buy an acoustic-electric guitar. Going to do that this week.

- Finish the roster, event rundown and a bunch of other details for the Indonesian Film Festival.

And that's about it. There's something else about going to IKEA tomorrow to buy some cups (for drinking, not for.. you know) and lamps. But.. yeah. I don't know.

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Admitting that you have a problem is the first, and easiest part. But I don't understand why it has to be so difficult to do the next step. So I have two options. Both of these options are strikingly similar to finding potential sponsors for an event. The first option is to visit the sponsor, tell them why they should sponsor your event, and wait until they get back to you. Based on my experiences, this usually takes 2-3 weeks.

And most of the time, they always say no.

The second option, is to chase these potential sponsors. Call them everyday and arrange a regular visiting schedule, in the same vein as a distant relative of a rich hospital patient that's dying from cancer.

And most of the time, they always say no. Unless the other side is particularly interested in your event. Which doesn't happen so often. Especially when you're trying to promote a 'cultural' event that would only attract stuffy, aging academics.

There is a third option. The apathetic option. Not going on a sponsorship hunt in the first place. Having a "Ah, fuck it" attitude.

I don't really know where I'm going with this rant..

And this entry is not about event sponsorship. It's about my depressingly dull love life. Hmm.

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Wikipedia: An encyclopedia that anyone can edit. And by anyone, we do mean anyone. I was reading this article on Hookah, and the sub entry for Hookah culture in Indonesia mentioned the following:

In Indonesia especially Jakarta, teenagers have tried this one of a kind smoking masterpiece, it is considered safe because in most cafes, Shisha is mixed with the oxygen and the amount of tar in Shisha is believed less then one percent. Hookah is so bad for you.

So bad for you, huh? Hookah so bad ah. You go die if u smoke Hookah. Ah.

Anywhoo .. does the name Lolcats sound familiar to you? Well, there's this site which has been around for ages, and it has a bunch of funny cat photos.

Such as this.



Ok, maybe that's too cruel :P



Tooooooooo cute. ^^

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To be honest, this poster scares the hell out of me. Do you have any idea how big this is going to be? It's so big, I can't even get my head around it. The Film festival is always on the back of my mind, reminding me that if I screw up, so many people will want to hang me and throw away my remains to a pack of rabid midgets. Not fun.

But seriously, please do come to this event. If you don't, I will be executed. Nah, just kidding. But seriously.

This is redundancy at its best; promoting an event to absolutely noone. And if you even go to this blog, mostly it's because you don't like me, and want to know what sort of shit I've gotten myself into this time. Heh.

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I was browsing through my list of Facebook 'friends', and I realised that I don't even know some of these people. Those I did know though, well, I haven't met them in quite a while. Hmm. Oh, there's my ex-girlfriend. So.. as Facebook asked me: "How did you know *oknum-X*?", would it be wise for me to write "We dated", or "We hooked up".

It'll look pretty dodgy, if you know what I mean. So for these people, I'd leave it blank.

And there's this one person that I haven't even met in real life. Where's the option for "We met in Cyberspace". And there's this one person that I've only met like, twice. What should I say for this? "We met randomly"?.

Maybe it's just me and how I get to meet these people. After all, some of the most interesting people that I know of are those that I've only met once. Single-use friends. You know those condiments and one-use shampoos at Hotel rooms? I tend to think of these people as, well, one-shot use. After all, there's no chance that I'll ever meet them again. It could be that girl sitting next to you on a train, or this one person that you'll never get to meet again, because she lives on the other side of the world.

And lately, I've been wondering to myself; How do you repeat miracles? Well, maybe not miracles.. but well, let's just say you had a fantastic time with a person, and you'd do anything for it to happen again.

I know I'm drifting slightly out of topic.. but I've been thinking about this since the last few days. It's been on the back of my mind.

And it's 3.29 in the morning. I've had too much coffee, and I'm being so delusional right now, I could be experiencing emotions that I don't usually get during the day. Such as.. I don't know, missing someone?

And that, is one absurd emotion. There is no such thing as 'missing someone'. It's just a word that we made up to replace "lusting for", and "depending on".. or "wanting for". After all, we are crude, decaying matter that enjoys making up these words and concepts so that we have a purpose to live.

So, anyway, a bit of disclaimer here. What I write here is not totally relevant and may be regarded as a meaningless, droning wall of text. Meaningless. Wall of text. Everything I write in this entry is not true. Not true, I tells ya!

I need some sleep.

And by the way, it's September 11 today. It has been six long years since then, and look where we are now, drowning in paranoia. Ah well, it could be worse. We could be having nuclear-strike emergency drills every week, like back in the Cold War. Heh.

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So uh, turns out that this hot Taiwanese girl in my class is a lesbian. I don't know whether to laugh or shake my head in disappointment. This is actually funny. This might be too much information, but whatever. So uh, I thought she was straight (naturally), and this one time I made the first move, got her phone number and all, and so on and so on. But then I found out that she's gay.

And no, there's nothing wrong with being gay.

This is actually pretty cool. I have a lesbian friend.

Right on. That's one item off my wish list. And yes, having a lesbian friend is in that list. Heh. Could I be any more sexist, perverted and disturbed? I think not. And yes, I know that I shouldn't make a big deal out of this.

But I want to.

This blog entry actually explains why girls tend to run away from me every time I try to start a conversation with them.. It's like I have a creepy, horny ugly guy complex that can be sensed from a 50 meter radius. But uh, you gotta admit that lesbians are cool. Right? Right?

Uhm..

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It's Monday already. I need to finish my lab report before sunrise. No, it's not due until this Friday.

I don't feel like sleeping.

And in this early hours of the morning, one could do a bunch of weird things. I was looking through my own facebook profile (sad, I know), and I noticed that I wrote Fight Club as one of my favorite books. Unlike others who listed the Da Vinci Code as one of their favorite books (yet only managed to finish the first two pages), I actually read Fight Club. Twice. What does that has to do with the Da Vinci Code. Nothing whatsoever. I was just being incoherent.

I should change the name of this blog. iNcoherent. Or iMumble. Or iSuck. You get the idea.

What the hell is iRectify anyway? You know, if you read iRectify slowly, and by slowly I mean slooooowly, it's pronounced erectify. Oh, HAHA, look at me, I made a sexual innuendo, right there. Yawn.

So where was I? Uh.. I'm not sure. I think I'm about to crack. There's just so much stuff going on inside my head right now, I think I'm about to go boom. Not in a sexually meaningful way (if you know what I mean, but I'm guessing not), but in a .. teen-angst-I-wanna-blow-up kind of way. Think about it, I'm about 5 months away from turning 20, so that gives me plenty of time to kick ass as a mumbling, angst-ridden, miserable teenager.

And bam, as soon as I blew the candles on my 20th birthday, I'll change to being a responsible adult, with a set of moral values and beliefs in the system, throwing away my idealisms and preconceptions, and follow the flow. Right after I blew the candles, just like that. Heh.

Anyway, where was I? Fight Club. Yes. So uh, I was looking for the novel on eBay (I borrowed the book from Rowdy White library, read it twice, then returned it just the day before it's due. Whatever, TMI there), and guess what I found?

A huge catalog of commercialized stuff based on the franchise. Videogames, branded jacket, a book on the real fight club, dvds, vhs, more videogames, posters, autographed photos of Brad Pitt..

Then I browsed for Trainspotting. Same thing here, there's a whole bunch of product lines based on the movie (and the book too, I guess.. but then, again the novel wasn't as big as its big screen adaptation, especially with Obi-Wan Kenobi playing a lead character..)

What else? George Orwell's 1984.

Chuck Palahniuk's Choke.

Che Guevara t-shirts.

One of these days, I'm going to wear a Britney Spears t-shirt. A pink Britney t-shirt amongst a crowd of faux Che Guevaras. But eh, I'm getting too old for these kind of statements and idealism. After all, Idealism is for teenagers seeking a purpose in life, and once you grow up, you realise that it's not worth it.

So, it's time to go to work, earn shitloads of money to buy stuff that you don't need to be happy, then you go home, you sit in front of the television watching reality tv and wishing you were younger and more fit, then you brush your teeth, say goodnight to your kids, get into bed, pray to your God, dream, sleep, wake up. Basically being a good sheep.

Baa.

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What's the deal with the censored body parts on Japanese AV? After all, you don't erase the term 'driving' from F1 racing. See where I'm going with this? Formula One, no driving. Diet Coke, shitloads of sugar. Beer, zero alcohol. I could do this all day. Friendster, no attention-seeking whores. See where I'm going with this?

I mean, doesn't censored body parts defeat the purpose of an AV? What's the point in censoring these body parts when, you know, those are the things that you usually focus the camera on? I mean, I don't pay so much to see a huge blob of pixelated.. stuff in front of me.

And by AV, I mean, AV as in advanced video.

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In one of my last few entries, I made a cynical prediction that by this week, I will drink myself to death or be humiliated in front of hundreds of people.

Of course, that didn't happen. Nobody can predict the future. Not even that tarot card reader that you visit every month or so. Why would you go to a 'clairvoyant' anyway? I went to a reader once, and she predicted that I will be endowed with material wealth this year, yet I will come under scrutiny and critics for I don't know, stuff.

She makes a lot of money. Maybe I should change majors to "Bullshitting and Cold Reading". I think they have that course at Monash. Under Arts and Commerce. I did drink a reasonable amount of.. stuff last Saturday night. Along with some other.. stuff. But no, it wasn't that bad. It turns out grabbing a guitar and singing along with a similarly intoxicated mate is the perfect recipe to creating good music.

Hey, you learn something new everyday.

Good night.

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Ha! I told you Facebook is evil! Evil, I tell you, evil!

Here's an article on the Age, titled "Facebook labelled a $5b waste of time". Of course, what's not evil is the fact that Facebook is so damn addictive. Procrastinabook. Facetinate. Goddammit.

Click:
Article

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If I'm stuck on a desert island with a tv and a dvd player, I would choose Fight Club and the Star Wars Saga to go with it. I like Star Wars, it's been one of my obsessions since I was about 9 years old. Now, Fight Club, I watched this movie in late 2006, about a few years after it was released. I keep on drawing themes and ideas from Fight Club, especially Tyler Durden's dialogues, when I write my movie scripts.

I have been working on a script for a movie. I'm hoping that someday I can find the time to get together with a couple of guys from my old high school and actually turn this script into a film. I've been working on this since early this year, and I add a couple of lines and scenes here and there every once in a while.

There's this one scene from Fight Club that always inspire me to continue writing on my script, even though I know there's nothing in it for me (i.e. it's not going to be turned into a real movie).

NARRATOR
I don't know.. it's just, everytime you buy a furniture, you tell yourself "That's it, that's the last sofa I'm gonna need. Whatever else happens, I've got the sofa problem handled". I had it all. I had a stereo that was very decent. I was close to being complete.

TYLER
Shit man. Now it's all gone.

NARRATOR
All gone.

TYLER
Do you know what a duvet is?

NARRATOR
Comforter. It's a blanket.

TYLER
Just a blanket. Now, why do guys like you and I know what a duvet is? Is this essential to our survival, in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word? No. What are we, then?

NARRATOR
We're uh, you know, consumers.

TYLER
Right. We're consumers. We are byproducts of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty - these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear, Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra..

NARRATOR
Martha Stewart.

TYLER
Fuck Martha Stewart, Martha's polishing the brass on the Titanic! It's all going down, man. So fuck off with your sofa units and Strinne green stripe patterns. Fuck off with your IKEA catalogue. I say, never be complete, stop being perfect, let's.. let's evolve. Let the chips fall where they may. But that's just me, I could be wrong.

Silence fell.

NARRATOR
I did lose a lot of stuff.

TYLER
..and the things you own, end up owning you.

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As great as my mom is, she forgot to tell me one very important lesson about life: there are people that will use you as a tool if you're not careful. That is the lesson. It's easy to understand, but darn hard to do in real life. Much like the stuff you learned back in high school, most of it is irrelevant until a few years later, until you're at uni or in the workforce. If, say, my mom taught me about this when I'm 6 years old or something, I'd go 'bugger it', and wouldn't even think about it until somebody actually uses me as a tool.

What is a tool? According to urbandictionary.com, a tool is one who lacks the capacityto know he is being used. A fool. A cretin.

If you think about it, avoiding to be a tool is a matter of wise decision. Sometimes you make that decision long before you realise that you're being used for her own good, sometimes seconds before and sometimes even months and years after you figured out that you're being used. It's not because you're a dumbass, it's because in general, people are morally fucked. Even the most honest of us enjoys the fact that they can tell others what to do and to gain complete control over them. Even the holiest of us, the prophets, the God-on-Earth used others for his own good or principle.

I wouldn't go as far as to say that religious people are tools. That's just harsh. And not entirely relevant according to what religion is. But let's not get into that.

Take an example, here's a girl with a whole bunch of 'friends' on Friendster and in real-life (Well, not really 'friends', per se, but more like Pokemon cards), and she somehow keeps track of all her Pokemon cards, and when the time comes, she draws the right card. Let's say she wants to go to the movies, but all her friends have watched the movie. Well, for example, let's say that this movie is the Simpsons, and everyone else but you and her watched the movie.

Yeap, you guessed it. No matter how pathetic, how fucked up, and how ridiculously ugly you are, she will ask you to go to the movies with her. Or when she's your boss, and she's asking you to work overtime so that she can go home and screw around with your best friend. Or when she wants you to call her mom to tell her that her daughter is not going out with her asshole ex-boyfriend. Congratulation, at least you're no longer inside a poke-ball now, huh?

Well, guess what? Once it's all done, you're going back inside, and not in a good way either. trust me, she has better pokemons. You're one of those redundant pokemons; i.e. NOT Charizard, not Mew. If you've been following my analogy so far, let's put it this way.

You = tool = the ugly, weak pokemons

most of us

Her 'best-friend'/Very handsome guy = Charizard

This is the enemy.

I guess you can tell by now that being tooled is not very fun at all. Even though it's as easy as saying 'Fuck off' to a girl. But when she's pleading, and begging you to help her, I guess you have no choice, right? I mean, you wouldn't say no to the one person you've been after in years, right? No. That is, unless you're a tool.

So the next time that hot girl comes up to you and ask you if you want to go the movies with her, remember my Pokemon card analogy and just say NO.

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There's a perfectly good reason why you're not to allowed to eat at a computer lab. The person sitting next to me is eating canned tuna out of a fucking can, and this is the sort of thing that can push me over the edge. And I gotta be honest here, I don't get irritated this often. Behind me is a mature age student (that's another term to describe really, really old people that tries to fit in with the younger folks at Uni. Just kidding, I love you grampa.), and as she tries to sit down, her chair collapses. How fucked up is that? And back to the tuna-eating mature age student.. goddammit she's still eating.. out of a can.. and there's another person beside me browsing a neon-colored Myspace profile, and pretty much everyone else in the room is looking at their facebooks.

Why does it have to be canned tuna? Why, God, why? Everybody knows it smells like shit. Especially when you're eating tuna straight out of the can in a goddamn computer lab. I mean, it ain't right. Eating a sandwich, that's fine. Fruits as well. But canned tuna.. it just makes you want to say.. what the hell?

There you go, you have just discovered one of the things that could annoy the hell out of me. Other than 13 year old Indonesian girls with more makeup than a shemale prostitute on a shady Bangkok street, mature age students eating tuna out of a can is right there on the list.

And by the way, PPIA RMIT is having an event called Kafe Art tomorrow night. There'll be bands, lame-ass attempt at parody humor and lotsa booze.

Ajeb ajeb.. ajeb ajeb.. ajeb ajeb.. ajeb ajeb.. dungstekdungstekdungstek..
taeah.

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I grew up with a lot of electronic stuff. I've gotten used to buying new components for my guitar and computer, and watching them fall apart before my own eyes. The best part about having music and computer gaming as a hobby is the fact that you can always fix your instruments. At least, that's what my dad told me. One of the first things he told me about life is that you can fix everything.

As I developed a passion for guitars and computers, I was becoming used to the fact that I have to able to fix them when it's broken. Troubleshooting guitars and the interior of a computer has become second-nature to me.

And now, my guitar amp is broken. I don't know what's wrong it, I've never fixed an amp before. I'm not even sure if there is such thing as a broken amp. I guess you can't fix everything. Not even relationships. And you certainly can't force a square to fit inside a circle, or a star. My point is, there are some things in life which you just can't force to happen, no matter how bad you want it. I mean.. sure, you'll get it if you want it hard enough, but it just couldn't happen. And it's not because of luck, it's simply because the world doesn't revolve around a single person.
I know the world revolves around Paris Hilton, but that's not what I'm trying to say here.

Anyway, I used to have an extra amp, but I sold it to a friend for a ticket to John Mayer's concert back in March. Talk about being stupid..

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I haven't had a decent sleep in three days, and I've had an excess amount of foreign substances in my body. It made me remember a couple of things from last year. This time last year, I was chasing this girl (it didn't turn out well, as you can see I'm still single as of now. And most probably will be by the time you're reading this in 2009 or something), and I don't know what got into my head, but I consumed a whole lot of substances during that time. Probably it has something to do with me getting stressed out from the fact that I'm chasing a closed-off introvert. That wasn't fun.

So I was walking down the street the other day, and I saw this guy chain-smoking a box of cigarettes. Then I wondered, what made him do that? To boost his self esteem? To feel good about himself? The thing about chain smoking cigarettes is, you get this feeling that you're looking like a total bad-ass. It's true that nicotine makes you feel good. Hence why there are smokers. Duh.

But is it because of the nicotine? Is it possible that their perception is altered by some sort of a placebo effect? Society's perception on cigarette smoking has grown to be unfavorable in the last few decades, but the preconception of its glamorous image continues to this very day.

So what am I trying to say here? Is it possible that you feel good when you're chain smoking in front of your friends just because it's a cool thing to do so? Ok, maybe it's not a cool thing, but it certainly turns people's attention towards you. And you know how good that feels.

Ok, I know that this is not the case with most chain-smokers, since there are those who indulges in this sort of pleasure when away from their close friends. And yes, most smokers are addicts anyway, so they wouldn't take those factors into consideration when chain smoking. But is it possible that this addiction is created by the mind to fuel your ego and pride? Sort of like a placebo effect. It has become a recurring habit that it classifies as a substance-addiction.

I guess the point I'm trying to make here is that one, smoking kills. Well, that's up to you to decide, but the Victorian government is paying me to say this. Just kidding. But seriously, smoking is not quite good for your health. Two, there is a thin line between physical addition and imposed addiction. Could it be that your mind wants you to become addicted?

I guess it's the same thing with having a continuous desire for a person. The feeling kind of grows on you and leaves you feeling like shit when you're not exposed to this 'substance'. Hmm. Think about it.

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There's a recent comment on one of my blog entries that kept me awake for a couple of hours this morning. Grace said a thing or two about marriages, and how potentially destructive it is if it's done for the wrong purposes. If you want to be in a relationship just for the sake of feeling secure and because of fear, then it's obviously not going to end well. As Grace said, if you're already feeling crappy about yourself, how can you make another person happy?

I guess what I'm trying to say here is, insecurity carries on well into a relationship. Instead of making you feel secure, your constant dissatisfaction with yourself will lead to you wanting more and more out of a relationship, until your partner can't take it anymore.

Basically, learn to respect yourself before you respect others. Because here's the thing, if you don't trust yourself, how can you trust others?

Yes, I know I sound like a wicked hybrid of Oprah and Dr. Phil, but that's just my opinion. So there.

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