i keep things

I never really understood “taking responsibility” when I was little. That was when my mom asked me to buy my own school supplies for the opening of 4th grade. It was my first time being handed on a task that I have to execute without her guidance. I wasn’t really scared of the thought of being alone; the sheer number of choices was what I was worried about. How many books? And should I buy them all in the same color? Can I buy a pen now or should I just stick with pencils? I looked at her with a slight of wonderment why she couldn’t walk me through the school supply section; possibly asking me if I liked Barbie or Barney crayons… in other words, I was stressed for the first time in my life. As I look back on it, it seemed as if she wanted me to figure it out on my own with the undeniable risk of failure. Even almost to the point of her wanting me to fail so she could correct me. Truth is, I didn’t want to fail and more so, I never want to be corrected. I no longer remember how I went about with my mom’s delegation nor how she had probably reacted to all the unnecessary supplies did I pull out from national bookstore. At that time, I guess it was easier letting my mom decide on a lot of things for me; from school supplies, to fashion and even hairstyle – I’d rather have her worry about that. Fast forward 12 years, I am 22 now and am bombarded by both of my parents by their expectations of who I should be and what I should be doing in my life right now. I guess things never really get easier as kids grow older. Kids create a mind of their own and their desires for independence poison their minds like cancer cells. If it were the case, I’d already be in stage 4. LOL. I’ve always thought of it (independence) as a long shot. Every day, I wish everything was different. if only I could tell them that I can handle things on my own now. That I’ll be perfectly fine with the decisions I make. Failure will always hurt, but at least I’m trying my best. To tell them that I am not as conventional as the other kids; and that I don’t mind living on my own; that I want to live and breathe art, music and literature! Tell them that I want to travel the world just so I can reach and feed hungry kids! That I want to write for a living, I don’t even care how much I make. Tell them that this is my life and this is how I want to live it.


Yeah, I’d tell them all of that. If only they’d ask me.
Until then, I might as well keep mum about it. And keep these dreams to myself.