It was during the time of great turmoil, when mysticism of the past collided with logic and reasoning of the present, that the great Crystal Ball shattered. The common men was gifted with the enormous power of foreseeing the future. For some time men rejoiced, giving thanks to whatever deity they believed to be responsible for this charity. They thought with this great knowledge, they could prevent and preempt whatever disasters that could come their way.
However knowledge did not bring wisdom. Chaos ensued as people tried advancing their own lives through their newly acquired vision. The world simply ground to a halt when every single action by any single person caused the cascading effects that alters the behaviors of everyone else, which in turn caused more cascading effects that continued this vicious cycle. Civilization was caught in some kind of paradox and was on the brink of collapse. That was when he came.
No one knew where he came from. No one knew his name. No one knew anything about him. Since the beginning, people knew him only as the Oracle.
Combining the mysticism of the past and logic and reasoning of the present, he was able to convince most people to give up the vision they acquired or for the few selfish ones who refused, their existence was ceased at once. Piece by piece, country by country, the Oracle was able to restore order to civilization. He was regarded as a god, an all powerful being sent down to save mankind from their greed and stupidity. People gathered around him wherever he went. They worshiped him. They sacrificed their animals to him. They even knelt to him and kissed his feet. Seeing what’s going on around him, the Oracle simply laughed in disgust and vanished into thin air.
He was never to be seen again.
Showing posts with label expectations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label expectations. Show all posts
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Wednesday, August 7, 2013
An Image
You don't want us to look, yet you are showing off more and more of your skin.
You don't want us to judge, yet your list of ex is growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. You don't want us to notice just your curves, yet you are making it harder and harder not to do so. Instead you want us to praise your more subtle features, like that one special eyelash you meticulously painted purple. You want us to appreciate you for your inner beauty, even though it is uglier still underneath. You want, you want, you want! You can go on wanting, but your sense of fashion highlights anything but. It is uncontrollable, like fear. It's primal. It's instinct. It's human. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry that I want to increase the survival chances for our species?
I remember the occasion when you confronted me about the issue. You were angry, hysterical. You were hissing and snarling. Like a starving beast having caught itself an unsuspecting deer. You grabbed me and were on the verge of biting my head off. You wouldn't let go of me until you've made clear of yourself that it was style, a sense of fashion, and that was it, nothing more. I tried. I wrecked my brain trying. Believe me, I'm still trying to this day, but I still haven't gotten any closer in understanding or seeing any correlations between looking fashionable and looking like an on-call prostitute. I wouldn’t have minded if you said that was the look you were going for. You could’ve called it anything other than fashion and I wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want to face the truth and realize how trashy of a person you are.
However the confrontation did bring me a new understanding of you as a person. Underneath that facade of yours, there is something lurking about. Perhaps it is some flaws you don’t want others to see. Perhaps you know how to do something that nobody else does. Perhaps you do have something that sets you apart from all the others, in a good way, but you keep it buried. You don’t want to stand out, you want to blend in, and somehow, you are doing it by standing out. You gossip, you taunt, you create dramas. You do all of that so you don’t fall victim to any of that. Or so you believe.
I’ve always wondered. Do you not get tired of worrying all those problems every second you are awake? Do you not realize eventually you’ll have to leave without enjoying a life that could be full of joy instead of fear you create? Do you not just want to throw it all away and for the first time, look and act as yourself? There is an entirely new world outside of the shell you are now hiding in. There exists people who will think highly of you because you are different, instead of knocking you down. Be yourself, your real self, but you should also be aware. Be aware of the kind who tell you that you are unique (or as the yearbook team had ever so uniquely spelled it, you-nique). They are those who will do everything they can to squash you like a bug for being different. I’m pretty certain you have a lot of experiences with those people as you’ve been an integral part of that group. Realize that you are not unique. You are just like everyone else, muddling through life, another piece to the puzzle that will never get solved.
For years you’ve fought for something so great, a fantasy, a dream. In that dream you see yourself rich and glamorous, where boys chase you like how the wealthy chases wealth. For years you've been fighting to achieve that dream. Society has mislead you into thinking you are close, but in reality, you are merely a reflection of absurd societal images. You are like an overly decorated vase, fragile and flawed, always in danger of shattering into million little pieces, impossible to put back into a recognizable form.
I feel sorry for you, but then again, I can’t say you don’t feel the same for me.
You don't want us to judge, yet your list of ex is growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. You don't want us to notice just your curves, yet you are making it harder and harder not to do so. Instead you want us to praise your more subtle features, like that one special eyelash you meticulously painted purple. You want us to appreciate you for your inner beauty, even though it is uglier still underneath. You want, you want, you want! You can go on wanting, but your sense of fashion highlights anything but. It is uncontrollable, like fear. It's primal. It's instinct. It's human. I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry that I want to increase the survival chances for our species?
I remember the occasion when you confronted me about the issue. You were angry, hysterical. You were hissing and snarling. Like a starving beast having caught itself an unsuspecting deer. You grabbed me and were on the verge of biting my head off. You wouldn't let go of me until you've made clear of yourself that it was style, a sense of fashion, and that was it, nothing more. I tried. I wrecked my brain trying. Believe me, I'm still trying to this day, but I still haven't gotten any closer in understanding or seeing any correlations between looking fashionable and looking like an on-call prostitute. I wouldn’t have minded if you said that was the look you were going for. You could’ve called it anything other than fashion and I wouldn’t have minded, but you didn’t want to face the truth and realize how trashy of a person you are.
However the confrontation did bring me a new understanding of you as a person. Underneath that facade of yours, there is something lurking about. Perhaps it is some flaws you don’t want others to see. Perhaps you know how to do something that nobody else does. Perhaps you do have something that sets you apart from all the others, in a good way, but you keep it buried. You don’t want to stand out, you want to blend in, and somehow, you are doing it by standing out. You gossip, you taunt, you create dramas. You do all of that so you don’t fall victim to any of that. Or so you believe.
I’ve always wondered. Do you not get tired of worrying all those problems every second you are awake? Do you not realize eventually you’ll have to leave without enjoying a life that could be full of joy instead of fear you create? Do you not just want to throw it all away and for the first time, look and act as yourself? There is an entirely new world outside of the shell you are now hiding in. There exists people who will think highly of you because you are different, instead of knocking you down. Be yourself, your real self, but you should also be aware. Be aware of the kind who tell you that you are unique (or as the yearbook team had ever so uniquely spelled it, you-nique). They are those who will do everything they can to squash you like a bug for being different. I’m pretty certain you have a lot of experiences with those people as you’ve been an integral part of that group. Realize that you are not unique. You are just like everyone else, muddling through life, another piece to the puzzle that will never get solved.
For years you’ve fought for something so great, a fantasy, a dream. In that dream you see yourself rich and glamorous, where boys chase you like how the wealthy chases wealth. For years you've been fighting to achieve that dream. Society has mislead you into thinking you are close, but in reality, you are merely a reflection of absurd societal images. You are like an overly decorated vase, fragile and flawed, always in danger of shattering into million little pieces, impossible to put back into a recognizable form.
I feel sorry for you, but then again, I can’t say you don’t feel the same for me.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
A Violent Benevolence
They had long forecasted that it would come. They tried to warn us of the dangers of being caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. They tried to warn us of the viciousness of what is coming. They tried to warn us. They tried to warn us over the radio, the TV, the Internet. You see, they really did try to warn us.
However they still failed at convincing me that it would come. It was my own observation that convinced me that they are making it sound like a big deal, like they do most of the time. I had gone through the day without seeing a hint of what was coming when all the while I was expecting it. It was anticlimactic. It was disarming. It was, reassuring.
It began with a blinding and deafening show of lightning and thunder. Like the July 4th fireworks, the sky was in constant state of illumination. Illuminated by a firework show that for a while, seemed to last forever. It was somewhat terrifying but mostly annoying. It interrupted the radio, forced it to highlight every flash and bang with a loud crackle of static. It woke me up from my sleep, kept me awake through the show. It went off just outside my house, almost destroyed the window in my room. I was startled. I was shaken. All of a sudden I was aware. Aware of what was happening, aware of my stupidity, aware of the darkness surrounding me.
And then the heaven let loose. Let loose its benevolence on the earth below.
For the entire night and morning the rain came down pouring, quenching the earth thirsty for the sweet waters from above. The earth rejoiced, grasses stood tall and unyielding, flowers bloomed vibrantly, and animals joined for drinks by the puddles. A deadly boring and oppressive summer scene was instantly shattered by this falling of water. This showing of mercy. This bringing of life.
So life it shall bring. Life it shall bring to all of us rendered lifeless long ago. Bring life back to us who have been waiting for something to break this heat. Bring life back to us who have been waiting for something to cleanse the gray ashes on every house. Bring life back to us who think life here has become dull and tiresome.
So wash our city clean! Wash our cars clean! Wash our spirits clean! I'll be grading your benevolence on the way our city shines, on the way my reflection looks, on the way all of us smile.
However they still failed at convincing me that it would come. It was my own observation that convinced me that they are making it sound like a big deal, like they do most of the time. I had gone through the day without seeing a hint of what was coming when all the while I was expecting it. It was anticlimactic. It was disarming. It was, reassuring.
It began with a blinding and deafening show of lightning and thunder. Like the July 4th fireworks, the sky was in constant state of illumination. Illuminated by a firework show that for a while, seemed to last forever. It was somewhat terrifying but mostly annoying. It interrupted the radio, forced it to highlight every flash and bang with a loud crackle of static. It woke me up from my sleep, kept me awake through the show. It went off just outside my house, almost destroyed the window in my room. I was startled. I was shaken. All of a sudden I was aware. Aware of what was happening, aware of my stupidity, aware of the darkness surrounding me.
And then the heaven let loose. Let loose its benevolence on the earth below.
For the entire night and morning the rain came down pouring, quenching the earth thirsty for the sweet waters from above. The earth rejoiced, grasses stood tall and unyielding, flowers bloomed vibrantly, and animals joined for drinks by the puddles. A deadly boring and oppressive summer scene was instantly shattered by this falling of water. This showing of mercy. This bringing of life.
So life it shall bring. Life it shall bring to all of us rendered lifeless long ago. Bring life back to us who have been waiting for something to break this heat. Bring life back to us who have been waiting for something to cleanse the gray ashes on every house. Bring life back to us who think life here has become dull and tiresome.
So wash our city clean! Wash our cars clean! Wash our spirits clean! I'll be grading your benevolence on the way our city shines, on the way my reflection looks, on the way all of us smile.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
One Last Chance
Us seniors’ last day of school is tomorrow, May 31st. Tomorrow will mark the end of slumbering through the day and of having to ask for permission to use the restroom. Tomorrow will mark our first day of freedom, if only for a little while for most of us, but at least we will be ourselves. True to who we are.
Tomorrow, the beast underneath all of us will be released. Finally a time and place to set free our true potentials. If you are thinking of something noble like finding a cure for cancer, I’ll tell you to forget it right now, because tomorrow we’ll be in the school parking lot. Armed with colorful water filled projectiles and shaving cream, we’ll fight each other battle royal style. We won’t stop until only one of us remains standing. Tomorrow our angers will get physical. Teachers and the administration be warned, you’ll be revenged upon for the four years of shit you have shoved down our throat. You’ll get pied in the face and have water balloons thrown at only the most uncomfortable place. Our level of anger toward you will be measured by the force we put behind the balloons and the amount of cream in the pies.
I’m certain, among all the joy and lighthearted pranks, tomorrow will also be a day of sorrow. There will be tears shed for close friends and awesome teachers as we bid farewell to each other. There will be many instances where we won’t be able to separate ourselves from our embracements, but in the end, as much as we don’t want to, we will have to let each other go. We might find ourselves separated far from each other after tomorrow, but no matter the distance of the separation, the strong bonds we had forged through four years of shared suffering and cruel jokes will stand the test of time. No one else in this world will understand you and me as much as we do each other, it will be childish and selfish of us to think and act otherwise.
Perhaps in the past four years I've done something stupid that had pushed you away from me. Perhaps in the past four years you've also done something stupid that had pushed me away from you, but I’m sure in the end, none of that will ever matter. You will forgive me as I will forgive you and certainly we will be best buddies again. This time it will be without the absurdity of an adolescent mind. A cookie shall never be again given the power to make or break our friendship. I promise.
In ten years when we meet again, I hope that you will have already have achieved your dreams. Maybe you want to be an astrophysicist, a doctor or perhaps even an evil billionaire. Whatever it is that you dreamt to have achieved, I sincerely hope that you would have it accomplished by then. In ten years when we have our class reunion, I would like to center our conversation around our success stories. About how you screw the other guy over. About how you came out of the pack fine and others not so lucky.
Anyhow, that is still in the distant future and today we still have unfinished business. Tomorrow we shall offer the one last embrace we owe each other. Tomorrow we shall shed the one last tear on each other’s shoulders. Tomorrow we shall give the one last “because we are friends, therefore I’ll slap you in the face” to each other. Because after tomorrow, we might not have the chance to do any of it again.
Class of 2013, I wish you guys all the best. You guys ROCK!
Tomorrow, the beast underneath all of us will be released. Finally a time and place to set free our true potentials. If you are thinking of something noble like finding a cure for cancer, I’ll tell you to forget it right now, because tomorrow we’ll be in the school parking lot. Armed with colorful water filled projectiles and shaving cream, we’ll fight each other battle royal style. We won’t stop until only one of us remains standing. Tomorrow our angers will get physical. Teachers and the administration be warned, you’ll be revenged upon for the four years of shit you have shoved down our throat. You’ll get pied in the face and have water balloons thrown at only the most uncomfortable place. Our level of anger toward you will be measured by the force we put behind the balloons and the amount of cream in the pies.
I’m certain, among all the joy and lighthearted pranks, tomorrow will also be a day of sorrow. There will be tears shed for close friends and awesome teachers as we bid farewell to each other. There will be many instances where we won’t be able to separate ourselves from our embracements, but in the end, as much as we don’t want to, we will have to let each other go. We might find ourselves separated far from each other after tomorrow, but no matter the distance of the separation, the strong bonds we had forged through four years of shared suffering and cruel jokes will stand the test of time. No one else in this world will understand you and me as much as we do each other, it will be childish and selfish of us to think and act otherwise.
Perhaps in the past four years I've done something stupid that had pushed you away from me. Perhaps in the past four years you've also done something stupid that had pushed me away from you, but I’m sure in the end, none of that will ever matter. You will forgive me as I will forgive you and certainly we will be best buddies again. This time it will be without the absurdity of an adolescent mind. A cookie shall never be again given the power to make or break our friendship. I promise.
In ten years when we meet again, I hope that you will have already have achieved your dreams. Maybe you want to be an astrophysicist, a doctor or perhaps even an evil billionaire. Whatever it is that you dreamt to have achieved, I sincerely hope that you would have it accomplished by then. In ten years when we have our class reunion, I would like to center our conversation around our success stories. About how you screw the other guy over. About how you came out of the pack fine and others not so lucky.
Anyhow, that is still in the distant future and today we still have unfinished business. Tomorrow we shall offer the one last embrace we owe each other. Tomorrow we shall shed the one last tear on each other’s shoulders. Tomorrow we shall give the one last “because we are friends, therefore I’ll slap you in the face” to each other. Because after tomorrow, we might not have the chance to do any of it again.
Class of 2013, I wish you guys all the best. You guys ROCK!
Tuesday, January 1, 2013
Good Bye 2012
Since I've not been very festive about the last few holidays, I might as well hitch a ride on the bandwagon into 2013 while the chance is still present.
***
2012. Pretty routine. Other than the load of tests I had to take in the middle of the year and the internship thing. It would also be my first time of experiencing betrayal.
For the internship, all of us have to do a tri-fold presentation. It wasn't the kind that you have to present in front of everyone, not that we'll have the time for that anyway. All the tri-folds were put out on the hallways of our school for the teacher parent conferences and open house, and was taken down right after. They really were just obstructions after they served their purposes, and they don't benefit us in any shape or form.
We were given three weeks to finish the project. It was difficult because I'm not very interested in making artsy shit like fancy poster boards that shoots fireworks. Art I like, but poster boards, that is so 3rd grade. Not to mention the only things I have to make art with at home were a pair of scissor, a bottle of glue and a pack of color pencils my cousin gave me seven years ago. I wasn't exactly in the shape of making anything artsy and a betrayal from my intern partner didn't do anything to help either.
That fucker agreed to work on this poster board with me when I asked him during the internship. His job was to take all the pictures for the poster board and we'll split the work equally among us. But on the day we were given the rubric he flatly denied to anything of the sort and stated that he will refuse to work with me because he paid for the pictures he took to be printed on nice photo paper. Prick.
***
Now that 2012 is behind us, shall all the memories connected to it be gone with it. Lessons learned will be forgotten, emotions felt will be suppressed, shits happened will be disregarded. Older, fatter, more mature. I don't expect 2013 to be any different from 2012. Stupid worthless projects will still be given. Another Chlamydia outbreak at my school. And more the DOs and DON'Ts from our counselors.
(I'm still curious as to how exactly did the proper authorities found out about the outbreak.)
2013 will be the same, or as my friend had eloquently put it, "Same shit different year".
To stay festive: Happy new year to you all! Have a great 2013!
***
2012. Pretty routine. Other than the load of tests I had to take in the middle of the year and the internship thing. It would also be my first time of experiencing betrayal.
For the internship, all of us have to do a tri-fold presentation. It wasn't the kind that you have to present in front of everyone, not that we'll have the time for that anyway. All the tri-folds were put out on the hallways of our school for the teacher parent conferences and open house, and was taken down right after. They really were just obstructions after they served their purposes, and they don't benefit us in any shape or form.
We were given three weeks to finish the project. It was difficult because I'm not very interested in making artsy shit like fancy poster boards that shoots fireworks. Art I like, but poster boards, that is so 3rd grade. Not to mention the only things I have to make art with at home were a pair of scissor, a bottle of glue and a pack of color pencils my cousin gave me seven years ago. I wasn't exactly in the shape of making anything artsy and a betrayal from my intern partner didn't do anything to help either.
That fucker agreed to work on this poster board with me when I asked him during the internship. His job was to take all the pictures for the poster board and we'll split the work equally among us. But on the day we were given the rubric he flatly denied to anything of the sort and stated that he will refuse to work with me because he paid for the pictures he took to be printed on nice photo paper. Prick.
***
Now that 2012 is behind us, shall all the memories connected to it be gone with it. Lessons learned will be forgotten, emotions felt will be suppressed, shits happened will be disregarded. Older, fatter, more mature. I don't expect 2013 to be any different from 2012. Stupid worthless projects will still be given. Another Chlamydia outbreak at my school. And more the DOs and DON'Ts from our counselors.
(I'm still curious as to how exactly did the proper authorities found out about the outbreak.)
2013 will be the same, or as my friend had eloquently put it, "Same shit different year".
To stay festive: Happy new year to you all! Have a great 2013!
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Legs, Not Fins
I don't know how to swim, I don't care to learn how to swim, and if you think I should do so otherwise please leave me your address so I can send a giant F to you. There is a reason why we were born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of our body. There is a reason why we have lungs, not gills. There is also a reason why we have the ability to consume marine creatures and thankfully, not the other way around.
Admitting this was hard, as a stranger, as a friend, or even as an anonymous blogger on the internet*. Other than my parents and now you, no one else know about my lack of interest in swimming. Living in a society where 11 out of 10 people know how to swim, admitting that you don't know how to do so is almost the same as admitting that you are somehow inferior to the others. Just watch a few of the recent Olympic games if you disagree. Why do people strive to achieve so much when in the end, it all means nothing. You might have made your mark in history, but give it a week, your existence will mean nothing for another four years and a crappy worthless medal is all that is left. Not to mention that out of a pool of able body only the lucky few will make it to the end and most will just suffer from the pain while gaining nothing. No pain no gain? So is much pain no gain.
Even though I don't know how to swim, at least I tried learning the how-tos. When I was little my dad quite often takes me to the pool, but I have never managed to stay afloat without the bubble. Back then I was rather underweight, but it appeared that I like to sink as if I were grotesquely overweight instead. I guess I was not biologically up for these kind of activities, but then again I was born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of my body. After a while my dad realized that I didn't appreciate swimming very much and stopped taking me to the pool.
Not long after, something happened. Probably could've taken my life if I didn't make a huge splash sound in the process. It was embarrassing to recall what had happened actually. I was out on a picnic trip with my family and some friends. We arrived at this one remote looking place with fruit trees all around. There were apples, oranges, pears, and other exotic fruits, all within arm's length. All of us were drawn towards this fruit forest, but my attention was soon captured by an out of place circle structure somewhat obscured by the trees.
The structure was about two meters tall and probably the same length in diameter. At first I thought it was a well but it was lacking a roof. A girl, who was maybe a year younger saw me and also came over to this well to investigate. Both of us climbed up to the top, and looked into it. The well was half filled with water with a large population of plankton, which gave the water a slime green color similar to the color of the tiles that lined the inside of this well. Of course for being such a observant fellow I was back then, I was arguing with the girl that the well was dry and that what she correctly thought was water was just green tiles.
She had none of it and claimed that there are even green snakes in the well.
"Are you stupid? The well is dry, if there are snakes down there we can probably see it! Fine I'll prove it to you that it's just tiles!"
I judged the height to be sure that I could climb back out and I jumped right in.
I was stunned instantly, physically as well as emotionally. I was almost completely submerged in the slime green water and I couldn't see a thing, it was thick with plankton. I was about to panic but one thought took hold of me. Something my mom once told me, "if you take a deep breath and hold it, you will float." For obvious reasons I didn't take the life saving(or ending) deep breath, but I didn't dare let my last breath to escape me either. I didn't struggle for air, like they do in the movies. Finally slowly and surely, I began to float toward the top and was able to see the sky, but I still couldn't breath. For what it seemed to be an eternity, I lay submerged in the water and thinking that I finally learnt how to swim(or at least how to float).
A few more eternities went by and my vision began to blur and darken, but help came at last. I heard a low murmuring voice and I did exactly it told me to do, to put out my hand.
"Huurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I gasped for air.
***
For the rest of the day while the adults and other children were having fun grilling and eating the fruits they found, I was busy trying to pick out the dried plankton in my ears and nostrils.
*There is no such thing as anonymity on the internet.
Admitting this was hard, as a stranger, as a friend, or even as an anonymous blogger on the internet*. Other than my parents and now you, no one else know about my lack of interest in swimming. Living in a society where 11 out of 10 people know how to swim, admitting that you don't know how to do so is almost the same as admitting that you are somehow inferior to the others. Just watch a few of the recent Olympic games if you disagree. Why do people strive to achieve so much when in the end, it all means nothing. You might have made your mark in history, but give it a week, your existence will mean nothing for another four years and a crappy worthless medal is all that is left. Not to mention that out of a pool of able body only the lucky few will make it to the end and most will just suffer from the pain while gaining nothing. No pain no gain? So is much pain no gain.
Even though I don't know how to swim, at least I tried learning the how-tos. When I was little my dad quite often takes me to the pool, but I have never managed to stay afloat without the bubble. Back then I was rather underweight, but it appeared that I like to sink as if I were grotesquely overweight instead. I guess I was not biologically up for these kind of activities, but then again I was born with legs, not with fins attached to the sides and the end of my body. After a while my dad realized that I didn't appreciate swimming very much and stopped taking me to the pool.
Not long after, something happened. Probably could've taken my life if I didn't make a huge splash sound in the process. It was embarrassing to recall what had happened actually. I was out on a picnic trip with my family and some friends. We arrived at this one remote looking place with fruit trees all around. There were apples, oranges, pears, and other exotic fruits, all within arm's length. All of us were drawn towards this fruit forest, but my attention was soon captured by an out of place circle structure somewhat obscured by the trees.
The structure was about two meters tall and probably the same length in diameter. At first I thought it was a well but it was lacking a roof. A girl, who was maybe a year younger saw me and also came over to this well to investigate. Both of us climbed up to the top, and looked into it. The well was half filled with water with a large population of plankton, which gave the water a slime green color similar to the color of the tiles that lined the inside of this well. Of course for being such a observant fellow I was back then, I was arguing with the girl that the well was dry and that what she correctly thought was water was just green tiles.
She had none of it and claimed that there are even green snakes in the well.
"Are you stupid? The well is dry, if there are snakes down there we can probably see it! Fine I'll prove it to you that it's just tiles!"
I judged the height to be sure that I could climb back out and I jumped right in.
I was stunned instantly, physically as well as emotionally. I was almost completely submerged in the slime green water and I couldn't see a thing, it was thick with plankton. I was about to panic but one thought took hold of me. Something my mom once told me, "if you take a deep breath and hold it, you will float." For obvious reasons I didn't take the life saving(or ending) deep breath, but I didn't dare let my last breath to escape me either. I didn't struggle for air, like they do in the movies. Finally slowly and surely, I began to float toward the top and was able to see the sky, but I still couldn't breath. For what it seemed to be an eternity, I lay submerged in the water and thinking that I finally learnt how to swim(or at least how to float).
A few more eternities went by and my vision began to blur and darken, but help came at last. I heard a low murmuring voice and I did exactly it told me to do, to put out my hand.
"Huurrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!" I gasped for air.
***
For the rest of the day while the adults and other children were having fun grilling and eating the fruits they found, I was busy trying to pick out the dried plankton in my ears and nostrils.
*There is no such thing as anonymity on the internet.
Monday, July 9, 2012
When the Egg Sticks to the Nonstick Skillet
I held such high hopes when my mom announced their arrival in August of last year. I was thrilled, overjoyed, and out of my mind; or as my mom called it - behaviors only to be found in insane asylums. Whatever mom.
I didn't get this excited for no reason, she was a long lost friend. After I moved to Michigan, seven years have gone by without any communication. We went to the same school together and lived in a close proximity, I guess the latter was the reason why I visited her so often. Now that I look back at it, our parents were unreasonably close friends as opposed to "good morning, you" kind of relationships. Suppose they also had high hopes of us getting serious with each other. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there wasn't free access to pornography, or else we would've gotten serious. Too much for the liking of our parents though.
However about two years ago they've also emigrated and settled in Maine with her uncle. They weren't exactly having the best time of their life, she said they were conned into staying there with their uncle. Her dad left for home, her mom worked long hours in the restaurant, from day break util stars twinkle in the night sky. All the while she was struggling with school because of the language barrier and was forced to help in the restaurant with whatever spare time she has left. From what my mom told me, it didn't sound like they liked it very much over there.
"Why don't we invite them over for a visit ma?"
My mom agreed and so did my dad and we soon formulated a flawless plan to help them if they do decide to live here, the visit was just a way to show them how nice it was over here. We were too nice back then.
Undoubtedly expectations didn't translate well into reality. I was still excited when my mom and I picked them up at the airport. Her physical appearance didn't deviate too much from what I had imagined but she was a little shy. Okay I can understand that, tired, overwhelmed, shocked; I've thought of every imaginable possibilities to explain her lack of talkativeness to convince myself that she is still the person I knew.
As days gone by I've discovered that she was a lot less intelligent than what I thought she would be, a lot less. Total lack of common sense and not capable of carrying out intellectual discussions about anything useful. Out of all the other things she could've done, she does exactly the ones that fueled the anger inside me. She is either dumb, clueless, ignorant, or all of the above. But I managed to keep the fire contained, with a lot of effort of course. I couldn't wait for the last day to come.
It was such relief when it did came. When they disappeared into the crowd, my mom and I acted as if we had won the lottery. We were smiling and cracking jokes all the way from the airport to home. We couldn't help ourselves, we were too happy and so was my dad. He described it as having the giant cactus off his back.
Ever since that week, I forcibly cut off all kinds of communication with her established during the first few days of her visit. I blocked her account on my instant messenger, closed my email account and pretended to be busy when they called. And I didn't feel bad about doing any of it.
Just the other day, my mom told me that our family had dinner together few years ago when we went back for a visit. Funny how I had no memory of it. Suppose my subconsciousness knew all along how much I hated her.
I didn't get this excited for no reason, she was a long lost friend. After I moved to Michigan, seven years have gone by without any communication. We went to the same school together and lived in a close proximity, I guess the latter was the reason why I visited her so often. Now that I look back at it, our parents were unreasonably close friends as opposed to "good morning, you" kind of relationships. Suppose they also had high hopes of us getting serious with each other. Unfortunately, or fortunately, there wasn't free access to pornography, or else we would've gotten serious. Too much for the liking of our parents though.
However about two years ago they've also emigrated and settled in Maine with her uncle. They weren't exactly having the best time of their life, she said they were conned into staying there with their uncle. Her dad left for home, her mom worked long hours in the restaurant, from day break util stars twinkle in the night sky. All the while she was struggling with school because of the language barrier and was forced to help in the restaurant with whatever spare time she has left. From what my mom told me, it didn't sound like they liked it very much over there.
"Why don't we invite them over for a visit ma?"
My mom agreed and so did my dad and we soon formulated a flawless plan to help them if they do decide to live here, the visit was just a way to show them how nice it was over here. We were too nice back then.
Undoubtedly expectations didn't translate well into reality. I was still excited when my mom and I picked them up at the airport. Her physical appearance didn't deviate too much from what I had imagined but she was a little shy. Okay I can understand that, tired, overwhelmed, shocked; I've thought of every imaginable possibilities to explain her lack of talkativeness to convince myself that she is still the person I knew.
As days gone by I've discovered that she was a lot less intelligent than what I thought she would be, a lot less. Total lack of common sense and not capable of carrying out intellectual discussions about anything useful. Out of all the other things she could've done, she does exactly the ones that fueled the anger inside me. She is either dumb, clueless, ignorant, or all of the above. But I managed to keep the fire contained, with a lot of effort of course. I couldn't wait for the last day to come.
It was such relief when it did came. When they disappeared into the crowd, my mom and I acted as if we had won the lottery. We were smiling and cracking jokes all the way from the airport to home. We couldn't help ourselves, we were too happy and so was my dad. He described it as having the giant cactus off his back.
Ever since that week, I forcibly cut off all kinds of communication with her established during the first few days of her visit. I blocked her account on my instant messenger, closed my email account and pretended to be busy when they called. And I didn't feel bad about doing any of it.
Just the other day, my mom told me that our family had dinner together few years ago when we went back for a visit. Funny how I had no memory of it. Suppose my subconsciousness knew all along how much I hated her.
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