I miss the Business attires we get to wear for reports, the rummaging for a set of six same dresses at a discounted price at Sharmila on the third floor of Marymart in Iloilo, the last minute make-up sessions before the case study reports, the sleepovers for the case studies that always end up in movie marathons and food trips, and the magically overflowing money in times when we need to eat at Greenwich to celebrate something or when one of us has no budget yet for our planned outfits. I miss our happy, busy life.
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Life's just not fair. You don't get what you really want, and you just have to settle for what is given to you. You know, there's some kind of silent dictatorship going on. You can't have everything for free. Some things you have to give up, some things you have to exchange for another, some things you have to sacrifice, and some things you have to let go. Just like dreams. And pride.
.
I won't write that you just have to be contented with all that. Because that would never happen. It's like living in a Society with a rotten culture. A society where you get pressured to do this, and not do that. To achieve this, and have others envy you and if you're too weak, they'll bring you down.
.
And for what's it worth, I do live in a rotten society. I hate those big noses poking on my business. I hate those bulging eyes scrutinizing my every move. I hate those so-called religious women with itchy mouths and sinful lips. I hate the fact that I get affected by their presence.
.
One wrong move, and you're the talk of the town. And hey, it won't be just you. They'll drag your family and your name down to your quicksand of a grave. And they just don't care.
Why, it's just too hard not to mind them. You can't just tell me to just go on with my life, to continue what I do. That's just impossible.
.
I don't really understand why, but I can see that people have a thing for role models, idols, or whatever you call them. They'll be the image of a saint, a nice, successful, generous next-door neighbor, or perhaps, a Virgin Mary type. And then they expect too much from you. You must be this, you must do that. Refrain from this, you're not for that. And when you slightly maneuver to a different path, then in their eyes, you become a loser, a liar, a pretentious little immoral outcast.
.
If I were inauspiciously stuck in that situation, I surely would be alright, as long as they don't touch my family and loved ones. I'd be very much able to defend myself from the cold fronts and chilli hot insults from those people that I don't care about. Just never, EVER, bring my loved ones in this. It's a matter of protecting them from disappointments, of catching banana skins and boos that are hurled at them because of you.
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Some people may find this too dramatic, too overreacting, too shallow. In fact, this is too shallow, indeed. But even if in this shallowness, one still does not understand, then it is not because I do not possess the gift of connecting to my reader. It is because the one who does not understand simply refuses to understand.
.
Life's just not fair. You don't get what you really want, and you just have to settle for what is given to you. You know, there's some kind of silent dictatorship going on. You can't have everything for free. Some things you have to give up, some things you have to exchange for another, some things you have to sacrifice, and some things you have to let go. Just like dreams. And pride.
.
I won't write that you just have to be contented with all that. Because that would never happen. It's like living in a Society with a rotten culture. A society where you get pressured to do this, and not do that. To achieve this, and have others envy you and if you're too weak, they'll bring you down.
.
And for what's it worth, I do live in a rotten society. I hate those big noses poking on my business. I hate those bulging eyes scrutinizing my every move. I hate those so-called religious women with itchy mouths and sinful lips. I hate the fact that I get affected by their presence.
.
One wrong move, and you're the talk of the town. And hey, it won't be just you. They'll drag your family and your name down to your quicksand of a grave. And they just don't care.
Why, it's just too hard not to mind them. You can't just tell me to just go on with my life, to continue what I do. That's just impossible.
.
I don't really understand why, but I can see that people have a thing for role models, idols, or whatever you call them. They'll be the image of a saint, a nice, successful, generous next-door neighbor, or perhaps, a Virgin Mary type. And then they expect too much from you. You must be this, you must do that. Refrain from this, you're not for that. And when you slightly maneuver to a different path, then in their eyes, you become a loser, a liar, a pretentious little immoral outcast.
.
If I were inauspiciously stuck in that situation, I surely would be alright, as long as they don't touch my family and loved ones. I'd be very much able to defend myself from the cold fronts and chilli hot insults from those people that I don't care about. Just never, EVER, bring my loved ones in this. It's a matter of protecting them from disappointments, of catching banana skins and boos that are hurled at them because of you.
.
Some people may find this too dramatic, too overreacting, too shallow. In fact, this is too shallow, indeed. But even if in this shallowness, one still does not understand, then it is not because I do not possess the gift of connecting to my reader. It is because the one who does not understand simply refuses to understand.
