Being a VICTOR. Not a Victim
Iím not sure who said this. But Iím sure about how it impacted my life in general. The words ďbe a victor, not a victimĒ has affected me a great deal. When in trouble, in confusion, or in† odd situations, I make sure that Iím a victor. Being a victor means Iíve got to be in full control of any situation. I donít easily get upset, worried, resigned or disappointed. I become more responsible for my actions. Blaming is not my escape blanket. I take full responsibility for my decisions and their corresponding consequence.
Being a victim is being a loser. A person who is a victim would curse the government for the bad road conditions, poor social service and all that. He would blame his immature marriage, failing relationships and the like. Iíve been through all that. I even blamed Adam and Eve, and I did not like it. So I chose to change and become a victor after I heard someone talked about it in a seminar I attended.
Sometimes my grammar cracks. But I donít give a damn. This is my world. God is not gonna ask me one day. How was your grammar, Cliff?
My multi tool phone tells me itís in the morning today and all the energies in the earth pin me back to bed. I decided to wrap myself in white tainted sheet. I noticed my hands try to reach for the lamp switchbox nearby my bed headboard. It wasnít the same as I stretched my hand at times after seven. Itís actually much lazier. I† pushed myself to the right edge of my bed and bent a liíl bit to put a hand on my gray backpack. I tried to slide-open the front zipper leading to the main compartment and grabbed my heavy laptop. It wasnít this heavy before, I exclaimed in my head. I opened the flat machine and pressed the power button with my index while I stretch my left hand trying to reach the farthest I could and bended my back towards front. I could even feel myself pulling out a deep sigh. Room seemed moving around me, waving and twirling in blurry effect. I know I wasnít drunk. I just took Ďbout 2 cans of smb before I plunged myself into bed last night. Yeah, I wasnít drunk, Iím trying to convince myself. I even tried to bow a bit and figure out if my brief was still on and if there are some plasti-paste dried up or caked up on my belly button. I smiled, no, I donít think I had nocturnal omission. I can still feel the electric fan whirring and giving me a shiver. Damn, I hate temperature in my room today. I banged my hand at the switches of the poor homely fan. Well, it stopped. Now Iím inching towards a small table at the left corner of my room. Ehhh, really cool, I have to get a shirt and put it on to comfort me-im naked. Just brief and some pimple in my chest stuffed my body. I gently put my laptop on the table and dragged a chair towards my half bended length. My bottom hit the chair Ė slumping like a lazy boar waiting for the next mating. I let out another sigh. Really deep sigh. I hate being alone. I always wanted beside another woman when evening comes. ehhh. I donít know, am I building an unusual habit already? Hmmnn,,, maybe I am sick. I prefer to think that , well, maybe this is the normal feeling when people are away from home. Even my popoo knows it. It would just not come out when I am in places strange and away. Well, im in my sisterís place but, I still long for home. Place where bed time is longer and warmer and food is smorgasbord. Ehhh.. I sighed again.. rolled my eyes up the ceiling. I donít know but I† closed my laptop again. Took a pillow, put it on the table, just beside my laptop and slumped my head with temple first hitting the comfy bed thing. Thatís all I remember. Now itís 7 am, and I feel the good mood sift inside me.