Why Hoping For the Best is A Pain In the Gluteus Maximus

You may safely call me an attention whore as soon as this rant is finished

As much as I wanted to keep my promise of never posting whiny, girly rants on my supposedly fun and quirky blog, some people just don't make that possible.

Okay, fun facts first before everything else! Yaaaay! 
[1.]  Danielle Liza Garingalao Molina is human. (Wow. I find that very hard to believe. *Insert eyerolling here.*)
[2.] Danielle Liza Garingalao Molina (though some people beg to differ) is neither Google, Wikipedia nor any other information-providing website that anyone can access at their pleasure.
[3.] Danielle Liza Garingalao Molina is human. She comes with everything else that humans have which include raging hormones, faggy emotions, crappy rant moments, an overthinking teenage brain and a totally stupid heart.

Now that we've got the facts straight, it's time to rant. 

The Perks of Being A Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky has that one quote that I bet everyone who's read the book or watched the movie knows: "We accept the love we think we deserve" 

This just sums things up perfectly--why nice girls go for bad guys, bad guys go for nice girls, bad girls go for nice guys and nice guys go for bad girls.

*Breathe* Okay. Time for the part where I end up making myself look like an attention whore.

I feel very, very, very unappreciated right now.

There, I said it. I just--I just really don't like the way you treat me... Do I even exist in your world if I didn't have homework or seatwork or projects ya can cheat off or am I just as good as my last favor to you?

Dude, look at meeee! It's obvious already. Crystal-clear. Even kindergartners can tell that I.AM.INTO.YOU. I'd do anything you'd say as long as it doesn't threaten my life. Reputation aside, look at how many times I've risked cheating for you! Chemistry, social studies, English, Filipino, you name it. This is self-centered and stupid of me to rant about such small things but look at what it's doing to me. You're practically eating my heart out, hear... And --well, I just serve it to you on a silver platter.

So, now, this is what I get for thinking that after you've used me up to the last academic resource, that we'd still be friends. It's like some kind of practical joke that backfired--it never ends up funny. Well, now I guess I know that that's the best I can get from you--the most attention I can get from you is when you need a piece of paper or when you need me to help you write an essay.

Thank you, just thank you, for letting me know that I am just as disposable to you as the 5-10% that homework takes up in our grading system. 

I guess now it's safe to conclude that this is the love I think I deserve... The 'do not speak unless spoken to' sort of relationship. Thanks for letting me realize that. Thanks for giving that to me, okay? Kudos to you.

This is admittedly a really, really faggy post but I just can't live through this day without telling the world how stupid I am for even being in this situation--for being stupid enough to admit to the whole wide world that despite all that crap, I still feel like I love you.

Well, this is your homework speaking... Thanks.

 I love you.

Call me when you need more paper, okay?