nothing out of the ordinary

if there’s anything christmas and the new year should be about, it’s forgiveness.

today, i felt sad. i sat in my bathroom a lot, playing Angry Birds angrily, pathetically on my phone because i felt that sad. i felt sad because i said some mean things that should never ever be uttered, regardless of how angry a person might be. there are some things, i guess, that nobody ever wants to hear, truth or not, judicious or not, practical or not. there’s some shit you just can’t talk about no matter how much you love or trust the person.  i can never seem to say very much verbally about deep rooted and upsetting issues due to an inherent miscoding in my DNA. this inability to talk to others irks me. i suppose this is going on my 2011 list of things to do. in any case, my sad day is over now, just like 2010.

i look at my shelf of toys, and then to my shelf of shoes. somewhere along the way while transitioning between the two shelves, i realized that it’s never really okay to just “be yourself”. “yourself” is such an arbitrary term. how do you “be yourself” without being influenced by the “real” world, the world that entails  mediocre jobs, money, fast cars and large paper cups of diet soda? is there someone i should aspire to be? an ever smiling girl , perhaps, who runs as though she were flying like a beautiful swan every morning, hair slicked back into a high pony tail, one gold heirloom earring on each ear, white running shoes gleaming in the morning sun. even her running gait – a high kick with every floating step – suggests nothing but success in her life. this is a girl who brims with such effervescent energy so much so that everyone loves her. everyone must love her.

but as quickly as she appears in my mind, she is gone. i am unsure if she will make me happy, but i reckon not.  then i wonder if i ever will be just an ever smiling girl whose face is permanently lit up, not just at the sight of someone, something, a mere thought. this is my biggest handicap: not being able to smile all the time. i wear my heart too much out in the open, exposed to all the dirt, the pollution, the things that people tell me; i cannot pretend. in recent days, i have been told to “sell my soul” and just be. just be. as if we are nothing more than a mass body of particles that came into existence, whose genetic code simply sprang from the depths of the core of the earth. and that is what we must do: exist. not live, exist. what about living and then existing? what about existing and then living? are these two notions independent of one another? we exist to live, to live like terrible pirates who knew nothing and hence had no fear of the unknown, who were unafraid to pillage and desecrate and tear everything and anything who came between them and their treasure; to live like brave generals who led their armies to war with the enemy, who would be the last man standing while everything crumbled before his bloodied body; to live like princesses who knew their place in the family, who would do nothing out of the ordinary, nothing but satisfy the grotesque man who lay in her bed every night before she slept. at the end of an era, at the end of a decade, at the end of a lifetime, what will we be remembered for? who will we be remembered as? if only i could live each day for its own beauty, to appreciate each rotation of the earth on its axis, to not think of what lies ahead several more spins ahead. i try to, but that would disallow me from being “myself”.


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