Tuesday, March 18, 2008 . 8:46 AM

Sometimes, I forget how lucky I am.

This is why I read the news. It never fails to serve up a good dose of Harsh Reality, which will kick me in the face and remind me why I should thank God instead of lamenting about things that I don't have, but want desperately.

Of course, when I feel in need of some self-pity, it's a matter of surfing over to Dawn Yang's blog or some hot starlet's and gaze upon their porcelain perfectness and the crushing wave of jealousy would sustain me for weeks to come.

What is it with humans and comparisons? Why do I feel the need to constantly measure myself against both possible and impossible meters? Then again, what is so different between me and say, Paris Hilton? (Ans: One's a slut and the other is not.) But seriously. She's just luckier... or perhaps I am (I'm not the one with the sex tape floating around). All the constant judgement is so tiring.

Why can't we accept that we are different? Is it a good thing to be gorgeous? Or rich? Or famous? We put stock in the least important things. What is beauty without kindness? What good does your money do if you're going to hoard it or makes you constantly doubt others' intentions towards you? What good is fame when, in the depths of the night, you find loneliness your only bedmate?

Perhaps I do not need beauty, fame or richness.

Perhaps I have been waiting for the wrong train after all.