Roger Federer looks like a man. He has the broadest shoulders, the most manly, sturdy, perfect chest, the most perfect figure. His back is absolutely beautiful, so long and well-sculpted and his skin is flawless. He's like some modern-day Greek god, a Swiss Greek god if that even makes any sense. I wouldn't be surprised if it doesn't because Roger Federer intoxicates and inebriates me - especially when Roger Federer is shirtless and perspiring.
OMGOMGOMGGGGG. When I first noticed him I thought he was absolutely beautiful. Now, I think he's absolutely beautiful, absolutely hot, absolutely adorable, absolutely gorgeous, absolutely elegant. He can be suave and fashionable one minute, then aggressive and athletic the next, then all Greek god-beautiful a while later (like, seriously? His GQ man of the year photoshoot is so beautiful that words fail me), and come full circle by dorking out in stupid t-shirts with cheesy, cartoony prints and biting his lower lip and grinning from ear-to-ear and looking all adorable and boyish.
I'm so jealous of his girlfriend right now I swear. And since I can't have him, I want a man just like him.
Okay, I really wasn't going to spend half of this entry gushing all over the place about Roger, so now that it's all out of my system, I'll move on to what I really wanted to say.
I was trying to recall what I did this time last week and realised that this time last week, I was already asleep/trying to fall asleep to give myself some shut-eye time so as to wake up at 4.40 a.m. on Tuesday to watch the US Open final.
I can't believe it's been only a week since he won. I can't believe only a week has passed within the past week. Because it felt like so much longer, so much weightier, and I can't believe it's only been a week. Prone to bouts of hyperbolic tendencies I may be, but the whole of last week, especially after the US Open ended, felt like the longest week of the entire year.
I would attempt to hazard a guess as to why, but truth be told, my head is hurting too much, I'm so incredibly sleepy, and most importantly, I don't even want to think about it anymore. Maybe it was all a phase, I don't know, don't really care right now. It's so easy to make a big deal out of what could be a momentary thing, a fleeting moment of weakness and insanity; and the price is just too much. It'd be like me splurging on the bandanna that Roger wore during one of his Wimbledon tournaments while surfing eBay: definitely a moment of weakness since, well, WTF am I going to do with his bandanna? And high price to pay because the starting bid is US$175. (Hmm, but then, if it's unwashed...OMG I WANT IT. Kidding.)
Is it worth it, ultimately, the thing you give up in exchange? Especially since I'm not particularly equipped to make such judgments at the moment. And the fact that I'm thinking in terms of trade, of opportunity cost? I think it says a hell lot. There is no succession, just the termination of one thing in favour of the beginning of another, and they are discrete and even a little bit mutually exclusive.
I can't, I can't. I'm tired, I want to sleep. I love Roger Federer.