Some have been thought brave because they were afraid to run away...
My papa expects all the best in me... From every word i say, from every move I make, and the way I think the most. He always assumes that I can do whatever he says, and whatever they teach me. When he sent me to school, he presumes that I am always the best from the class. I did all my best, but I really think that, that best wasn't good enough for him... I was not allowed to play outside when I was a kid. I was not allowed to talk to my cousins because I might learn to speak Bicol since my mama doesn't know how to understand them. Books are my only companion, my drawing books and my crayons. For every day that God has made, I think I’m not growing up... I feel that my childhood was been deprived...
Until i can't make it to be an honor student anymore... until i found myself lazy studying my lessons... until the time that i feel that i don't want to be in school anymore... I always feel a rumble sound from my tummy whenever i hear that 5 o'clock afternoon serene; because I'm going home again...
I don't wanna hear my papa's voice shouting... his angry voice that makes me shiver... asking me how's my school for that day... what did I learn... what are my plans for the next day... at my young age, i supposed i must not be worrying about them. I must be playing instead... I grow up in a way that i don't know how to express my feelings... hatred is inside... I don't know how to fight back... I don't even know how to depend myself... I was teach to listen ONLY whenever they have to talk and when they have something to say, even at times you have to... I found my own set of friends... but I was not allowed to go with a friend who’s older than me, or even younger than me. Friends that are only at my age should be treated friends. huh! I can't find the perfect logic for this... my youthful days were been deprived again, i guess...
Until the time when I have to seek for my own freedom... i go to strange places that I’ve never been. I go with different kinds of friends... I talk to strange people... i learned how to smoke... how to get drunk... how to hurt people... how to get mad... how to speak nasty words... how to follow my own likes... how to lie... until I became rebellious in my own ways and became stubborn with my own decisions... and not taking life seriously...
Sometimes when we react to life from the head without joining forces with the heart, there are instances that it can lead us into childish yet inelegant behavior that we don't respect in ourselves. Sometimes when I think of those people that walk around with a meaningless life, they seem half-asleep, even when they are busy doing things they think are important. Because they are chasing the wrong things... I remember when papa wanted me to marry the guy he likes for me. I have to say my yes at first, but lately by saying no. one thing that i don't want to happen. i thought to myself, i was no longer that little child that i can do this and that whenever they said so... I want to have my own life. i want to express what's inside of me... because I don't want to be unfilled with my own decisions... anymore...
Life sometimes may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance... like my papa's own way of raising me up, i guess, he just overreacted since i am his first child and wants the best in me. But life has its own purpose. No mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from. And I’m ought to get in touch with life's silence within myself.
For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin--real life...
But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life...
My papa expects all the best in me... From every word i say, from every move I make, and the way I think the most. He always assumes that I can do whatever he says, and whatever they teach me. When he sent me to school, he presumes that I am always the best from the class. I did all my best, but I really think that, that best wasn't good enough for him... I was not allowed to play outside when I was a kid. I was not allowed to talk to my cousins because I might learn to speak Bicol since my mama doesn't know how to understand them. Books are my only companion, my drawing books and my crayons. For every day that God has made, I think I’m not growing up... I feel that my childhood was been deprived...
Until i can't make it to be an honor student anymore... until i found myself lazy studying my lessons... until the time that i feel that i don't want to be in school anymore... I always feel a rumble sound from my tummy whenever i hear that 5 o'clock afternoon serene; because I'm going home again...
I don't wanna hear my papa's voice shouting... his angry voice that makes me shiver... asking me how's my school for that day... what did I learn... what are my plans for the next day... at my young age, i supposed i must not be worrying about them. I must be playing instead... I grow up in a way that i don't know how to express my feelings... hatred is inside... I don't know how to fight back... I don't even know how to depend myself... I was teach to listen ONLY whenever they have to talk and when they have something to say, even at times you have to... I found my own set of friends... but I was not allowed to go with a friend who’s older than me, or even younger than me. Friends that are only at my age should be treated friends. huh! I can't find the perfect logic for this... my youthful days were been deprived again, i guess...
Until the time when I have to seek for my own freedom... i go to strange places that I’ve never been. I go with different kinds of friends... I talk to strange people... i learned how to smoke... how to get drunk... how to hurt people... how to get mad... how to speak nasty words... how to follow my own likes... how to lie... until I became rebellious in my own ways and became stubborn with my own decisions... and not taking life seriously...
Sometimes when we react to life from the head without joining forces with the heart, there are instances that it can lead us into childish yet inelegant behavior that we don't respect in ourselves. Sometimes when I think of those people that walk around with a meaningless life, they seem half-asleep, even when they are busy doing things they think are important. Because they are chasing the wrong things... I remember when papa wanted me to marry the guy he likes for me. I have to say my yes at first, but lately by saying no. one thing that i don't want to happen. i thought to myself, i was no longer that little child that i can do this and that whenever they said so... I want to have my own life. i want to express what's inside of me... because I don't want to be unfilled with my own decisions... anymore...
Life sometimes may not be the party we hoped for, but while we're here we should dance... like my papa's own way of raising me up, i guess, he just overreacted since i am his first child and wants the best in me. But life has its own purpose. No mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from. And I’m ought to get in touch with life's silence within myself.
For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin--real life...
But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life...
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