𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓻𝓪𝓱 𝓚𝓪𝓽𝓮

“Keep your standards high and your excuses low.” Sounds like a motivational poster you’d see in a gym, but it’s actually the cheat code for building a life that doesn’t collapse like a badly made IKEA shelf.

Here’s the deal: standards are your personal quality control. They’re the invisible fence that keeps distractions out like spam emails, toxic people, and the sudden urge to reorganize your sock drawer instead of working. Excuses, on the other hand, are the termites. Tiny, sneaky, and before you know it, they’ve hollowed out your progress.

Most people chase discipline like it’s a trendy slogan. But discipline without trimming excuses is like buying a treadmill and using it as a clothes rack. The weird truth? When excuses shrink to near-zero, your standards don’t just rise, they start haunting you like ghosts of projects you actually finish.

High standards without low excuses? That’s how you end up with a private museum of unfinished masterpieces. Sketches everywhere, but no completed canvas. The magic happens when you stop explaining why you can’t and start proving why you will.

Excuses are the voice of someone enslaved by externals. Standards are the measure of your soul’s commitment to virtue. If you mess up, admit it. If you’re guilty of something, own it. Then move forward—fast. That’s not weakness; that’s strength with swagger.

So, keep your standards sky-high, your excuses basement-low, and watch how your life stops being a half-built Lego set and starts looking like a skyscraper. Investors call it “edge.” I call it living without termites.

Episode Title: Schrödinger’s Boyfriend: When One Girl Says “I Trust You” And The Other Says “Run”

Host: Kat – Your resident philosophical troublemaker

Good Morning, chaos lovers and students of human disaster—Kat here, and tonight we’re breaking down the single most telling, most hilarious, most existentially damning conversation a guy will ever receive. It’s two lines. Two very simple lines. But together? They form a complete philosophical thesis on why some men walk around like they’re the main character… while actually being the plot hole.

Let me read them again, because they are poetry in their own chaotic way:

Girl #1: “I trust u naman, no worries!”

Girl #2: “I don’t trust u, so you better worry.”

Ohhh, honey. You magnificent disaster. You’re standing there right now—phone in hand, probably grinning like a golden retriever who just got told “good boy” by one owner and “we’re scheduling the vet appointment next Tuesday” by the other. And honestly? This isn’t just two girls having different opinions about you. This is the universe splitting itself in half just to show you exactly who you are. And spoiler alert—it’s not pretty.

Let’s decode them, shall we? Because both are right. And both are coming for you.

GIRL #1: THE ABSURDIST – “I Trust U Naman, No Worries!”

First up—Girl #1. Bless her sweet, optimistic soul. This is classic Filipino kindness wrapped in emotional strategy. When she says “I trust you naman,” what she actually means is:

“I have seen your behavior. I have noted the red flags. But since life is basically meaningless and we’re all just hurtling through space on a giant rock, I have decided to believe your lies anyway. It’s less exhausting than fighting you, and I really like the way you smile.”

This is Camus energy. She has stared into the abyss of your 2:00 AM “you up?” texts, your vague excuses, and your habit of being “busy” exactly when you should be available—and instead of running, she’s shrugged and said: “Meh. Might as well enjoy the ride until we crash.”

Think of it like this: Giving you trust is exactly like giving a toddler a lighter and saying, “Okay, play with it! Just don’t burn the house down.”

She knows you have the capacity for destruction. She just chooses to treat the inevitable disaster like an interesting art project. She’s not blind—she’s just romantically preparing her own emotional exit strategy, but she’s too polite to hand you the resignation letter yet. She’s giving you enough rope to hang yourself, but she calls it a “safety net.”

Relatable example? It’s exactly like ordering food at a restaurant that you know has mixed reviews. Your friend says, “Are you sure? I heard they give food poisoning.” And you go: “No, it’s fine! I trust them naman!”

You don’t actually trust them. You just really want the truffle pasta, and you’re willing to gamble your digestive system for it. That is Girl #1. She wants the truffle pasta so bad, she’s willing to pretend the kitchen isn’t full of rats.

GIRL #2: THE REALIST – “I Don’t Trust U, So You Better Worry.”

And then—boom—here comes Girl #2, dropping the guillotine with zero mercy. This isn’t jealousy. This isn’t drama. This is Nietzsche level truth-telling. She didn’t just look at your behavior—she analyzed it, graphed it, calculated the probability of you lying, and came back with a scientific report: “This man is fundamentally flawed.”

When she says “you better worry,” she’s not being dramatic. She’s giving you a weather report. She’s saying: “I have seen the pattern. I know how this ends. And buddy? You are currently standing directly in the path of a hurricane that I am actively manifesting in my notes app.”

Girl #2 is the friend who walks into that same restaurant, sees one fly, and immediately walks out saying: “Absolutely not. I value my life.” She’s not guessing—she’s knowing. She’s the girl who checks the receipt, counts the change, and reads the Terms & Conditions—all of them, including the fine print in tiny font at the very bottom that says “we reserve the right to ruin your life at any time.”

And let’s be clear—when she tells you to worry? It’s not because she’s scary. It’s because you know you deserve to be worried about. It’s like when a doctor looks at your test results, looks you dead in the eye, and says: “You should probably make peace with your family.”

She’s not threatening you. She’s just the messenger… and the message is: “You are running on borrowed time and borrowed trust.”

YOU: SCHRÖDINGER’S BOYFRIEND

KAT:

Now let’s talk about you. Because you are the main character in this comedy, and honestly? You are doing the most with the least amount of substance.

Right now, you are the human embodiment of Schrödinger’s Boyfriend. You are simultaneously loyal and unfaithful, trustworthy and completely shady, until someone actually opens your chat logs and collapses the probability wave.

Girl #1 sees the version of yourself you sold her—charming, funny, just misunderstood.

Girl #2 sees the version of yourself you actually are—charming, funny, and absolutely full of garbage.

You walk around collecting trust like it’s Pokémon cards, thinking: “Oh look! I got another one! I’m so good at this!”

But trust isn’t currency, honey. You can’t spend it. It’s a mirror. And right now that mirror is showing you a man who has been polishing his reflection so hard he forgot the glass is cracked all over.

Here is the absolute best analogy for you, and I want you to sit with this one:

You are the human equivalent of a “Terms and Conditions” pop‑up box.

Everyone clicks “Accept” without reading. Everyone thinks, “Oh, it’s fine. It’s just standard stuff.”

But then—months later—they realize that by clicking “Accept,” they have agreed to let you:

- Change your mind whenever you want

- Ignore them for days at a time

- Lie with a straight face

- And offer absolutely zero customer support when things go wrong

Girl #1 clicked “Accept” because she liked the app icon.

Girl #2 read the whole document, saw the clause that said “we reserve the right to waste your youth,” and went: “DELETE. UNINSTALL. BLOCK.”

THE DARK COMEDY & THE VERDICT

The funniest part? You will worry. Not because Girl #2 told you to—but because deep down, you know she’s right. Every “no worries” you get from Girl #1 is just interest accumulating on the debt of your bullshit. One day the bill comes due. And it won’t be angry texts. It won’t be fights. It will be silence. The kind of silence that makes your stomach drop like a philosophy student realizing Nietzsche was actually right: God is dead, and your dating profile definitely helped kill Him.

You are currently trapped in a pincer move:

- Girl #1 is the Sun — she blinds herself so she can keep feeling the warmth. She’ll leave eventually, when the heat burns her too bad.

- Girl #2 is the Moon — she sees everything you do in the dark, and she’s already writing poetry about your downfall. She never stays long enough to get hurt.

The irony? You’ll probably lose them both. One because she finally wakes up, the other because she never went to sleep.

But hey—at least you’re the center of attention, right? Even if that attention is mostly people debating whether you resemble more of a dumpster fire or a train wreck under the moonlight.

So go ahead. Reply to both. Tell Girl #1 “thanks babe” while your pulse spikes re‑reading Girl #2’s warning. Keep performing. Keep being the charming little chaos gremlin who thinks he can thread the needle between trust and consequences.

Just remember: The reaper is already laughing in the group chat. And she types in perfect English when she finally decides to collect.

You better worry, king. Not for them.

For the man you are becoming while pretending both statements can possibly be true at once.

That’s it for tonight, philosophers of chaos and lovers of the truth. If you are currently this guy? Fix it. If you are one of these girls? Stay amazing—and keep reading the fine print.

Catch you next time on Worn‑Out Metaphors & Fresh Roasts. Good Morning!

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