They had one thing in common to say.

“This is the best time to enjoy life, being in your early 20s. You have all the right to make mistakes and you don’t even have to find excuses.”

They’re right in some way. However, I don’t have time to commit a lot of mistakes because if I do, then I won’t be breathing at all. One false move, everything will be gone. I didn’t want to explain a lot of instances on why I became like this. I’m uptight in certain aspects of life because it’s all about the law of survival. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t serious.

But then, it’s only through certain areas. The only problem is those areas would come to topic every now and then which makes me queasy at times because I don’t know to react. Rather than saying something stupid or dumb, which people may label me as somewhat flip, I’d rather shut up.

Anyway, it’s nice to talk to people who’re at least 4 years older than you. I appreciated the gesture of them giving me some tips on their outlook. They have the wisdom to tell you certain things that you’d like to hear without sounding too elderly.

Coincidence?

Yahoomail, Blog-city, Yahoo 360, Friendster, Blogspot, Yahoo Messenger, Gmail, Photobucket, Multiply, Wordpress, Youtube… just some websites (mail/blog/social networking/etc.) that helped shape my internet savviness (haha, savinness, what a word’; even if there’s no such).

I kept some, deleted some, and some just wilted away.

Going back, often times I ask myself why I don’t delete those mails. I can’t give a decent answer, is this is a sign of me not being able to move on? Not really. I don’t faithfully reread these emails anymore unlike before. Maybe I just like the fact that I have a history to recall on at times when I’d like to reminisce such as today. It’s more of a happy phase for me now; it makes me smile knowing what I was to the eyes of some people. Those old letters are gentle reminders for me not to go over my head and keep my toes intact.

They make me realize that I once had a past.

Strawberry Supershake

I’m handling new responsibilities. I’ll be working on new tasks; tasks I’m sure I’ll be trying hard to adjust with, again.At least I’m on leave all Fridays of September, this is my month. Still I want to start the month right, I don’t want to sleep and then go home late anymore.

Focus, where’s your focus, Ed? Also, you better stop talking to yourself. It’s weird.

I’m leaving the place , maybe just for awhile and like I said before, I’m scared shitless. The inevitable will always be there, but I’m growing old and I can’t revert to the same ways that have always prevailed in my almost 22 years of existence. I need and I want to step up. It will be hard I know, I will stumble countless times. I just need the space for myself alone.

Does that make me a bad son? Because of the situation that I’m creating, it feels like I’m the one creating a broken family. But I haven’t always been a good child, I do become selfish a lot of times. But because I’m staying away from the problem, it’s like I’m escaping my responsibility. However, I also need to grow; how can I live up to my own principles if I don’t practice them?

The mentality that I’ve always had is to help my family, pay my respects, do my obligations, be the obedient child. But now, I’m just all too tired and full of pride which makes me question the path I’m taking. Do I want to be like this? Of course not; however, I need to keep my own beliefs intact; even if it means going away.

The feeling just sucks, with all the things that we’ve been through, with all the hardships we’ve survived, I’m now turning into a prodigal son.

Coincidentally, I read a story from a forwarded message stuck in my Inbox. The email talked about a son who grew up who sent his parents to a trip. Since it was his parents’ first time to ride a plane, they couldn’t conceal their excitement when they were already at the airport. Anyway, here’s a passage…

A simple man tells how his booking  an air ticket for his  father, his
first  flight, brought  emotions and made him realize that how much we
all take for granted when it comes to our parents.

As  they were about to go in for the security check-in, he walked up to
me with tears in his eyes and thanked me. He became very  emotional and
it was not as if I had done something great but the fact that this meant
a great deal to him.

My parents left for our native place on Thursday and we  went to the airport to see them off. In fact, my father had never traveled by air before, so I just took this opportunity to make him experience the same. In spite of being asked to  book tickets by train, I got them tickets on
lufthansa.

The moment I handed over  the tickets to him, he was  surprised to see that I had booked them by air. The excitement was very apparent on his face, waiting  for the time of travel. Just like a school  boy, he was preparing himself on that day and we all went  to the airport, right from using the trolley for his luggage, the baggage  check-in and asking for window seat and waiting restlessly for the  security check-in to happen. He was thoroughly enjoying  himself and I, too, was overcome with joy watching him experience all these  things.

The story isn’t that hard to understand, it’s just about giving back the selflessness that you received from the people who raised you properly.

I’ve always wanted to bring something to the house. I’ve always wanted a picture of a happy family (our family) gathering in one table with our wives and children in tow. But somehow, poverty clouded that memory. It seems like that type of scene would only come true if money would be no question. And in our case, it’s always been an issue. Sure, we were one when we had no money. But the problem is we’re growing up.

Even if how many instances my parents would say that money is not the problem, it’s the one that’s been hindering us from achieving a lot of things. Or maybe that’s just my personal opinion. I don’t know how many times my father did the impossible; like sending us to private schools even if he didn’t have a single cent in his pocket. But then, I can never be like him. I’ve always wanted to but I just couldn’t; and I still can’t. He’s not pressuring me since I’m the one doing it for myself; setting a standard that I can never reach which makes me all the more frustrated when I’m unable to succeed.

And now that I’m transferring to another place which is actually illogical, I have to keep my head up. I have my own journeys to take; definitely I don’t want to be alone. But sometimes I just have to stay strong, even if it means losing my senses.