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On growing up

On growing up on September 30, 2009 at 05:21 AM |

Growing old is an optical illusion. When we're young, we wish to grow old and imagine life five or ten years forward. When we're old, we wish to go back to being a child again and experience innocence in a different way. Humans. I plumply accepted this fact and I know I can never be that kid again, but in my heart I am still that same kid who smiles when being appreciated, I am still that kid who gets fascinated with cotton candies. But my shoulders are bombarded with so much responsibilities I cannot refuse, that's the difference. I have been fulfilling my duty as a daughter, as sister, as a friend and as a person yet I feel like I am not growing up.

Do we really grow up? Such a difficult question to unravel.

My Pandora's box

My Pandora's box on September 27, 2009 at 08:48 PM |

I relapse in the deepest thought there is in my small brain. Will I still be alive tomorrow? Will I find escape? Will I be able to defend myself? Will I find help?

I just committed a fatuous negligence that would cost me my job. And I can't afford to lose anything right now. Not a single thing. Not even the most minute thing I have. I just can't. Hell. No.

Now is the right time to rummage on my long-kept box and seek for one thing. HOPE.

Child again

Child again on September 25, 2009 at 07:35 PM |

Hoping and waiting. I guess these are the things I will ever do. Hoping to see the world change by itself. Waiting for my dreams to be realized by themselves. It's tiring when you grow up and the weight of the world is on your shoulders. You keep the buoy. You think about balance. You think about yourself. You think about other people. You think about what other people think about you. And most importantly, you think about your future. I used to fancy of becoming a child again. No worries. I get up when ask to. I eat when my tummy aches. I cry when someone ridiculed me. I laugh when something is funny. I go to school because Mama and Papa said, it's for my future. I never paid attention of the word "future". But my life as a child is so easy. So easy that I want to go back and be a child again.

on September 24, 2009 at 08:00 PM | favorite

This is when boredom strikes me.

Ephemeral pleasure

Ephemeral pleasure on September 24, 2009 at 12:46 AM |

Love has all the lasting permanence of a rainbow-beautiful while it's there and just as likely to have disappeared by the time you blink.
        -Jodi Picoult

It was all so beautiful. But it lasted so soon. How could you put me on pedestal when you can't hold me long enough? How could you?

Til we meet again

Til we meet again on September 23, 2009 at 07:54 PM |

Due to non settlement of your account your services have been temporarily disabled, said the telephone. Goodbye Internet! Goodbye telephone.

Blur

Blur on September 23, 2009 at 06:28 PM |

The downside of working at night is that you do not know when to start the day and when to end it. The sunrise and sunset are no longer part of your system. The clock says 6:22pm and I just started my day here at work. This is going to be a long long long day for me. Eleven hours and thirty eight minutes. Will I survive? Depends.

Randomness

Randomness on September 22, 2009 at 09:02 PM |

My placid state of mind has been distracted by some harsh truth, that I am not getting any younger. Life moves forward not backwards. The older we get, the heavier our responsibilities are. While Koko and I were heading to the airport we had a long strenuous conversation about life. About how my life stopped "for a long while" to lavishly give what my family asked for. About how her life changed when she became a mother. Sometimes I find it silly to think about my future. When will I start to give attention to my life? Is it too late?

Now, I am working my ass off and my head hurts really bad, had not enough sleep today and I will be working 12 hours. So those were my musings, so help me God.

At least.

At least. on September 21, 2009 at 10:39 PM |

I am obviously raving for words. Home. I am home. Home is where my heart belongs. Home. My family. They give me reason to smile. My family is a succinct picture of imperfection yet I can only feel perfection when I am home.

How many times did I blabber about my family hurting me? Yet I am still doing all the best I can to make things possible for them.

Why can't I say "I have a happy family" like everyone else does? Envy sometimes hurts me, but at least I have a family. At least I have a place I can call home. At least.

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