What I believe is that, sometimes,
in the day, while we’re hustling along the other front-runners of the animal
kingdom, something happens. Something happens that would make us think things.
Something happens that would make us feel. Something happens that would keep us
woke at night.
I’m usually wrong when it comes
to a lot of things. Or so I’d like to think. Therefore, I could be wrong in
that premise, too. Most of the time, I would tend to shy away from the world
too afraid to make the mistake that would betray myself, or my dreams, or my good
intentions. How do I survive? I survive by feeling. I survive by telling the
world how I feel. That’s why I write, where writing both means blogging, or
simply, venting out on social media.
In the past, my mouth was
unstoppable. Webster would describe me as candid. People who know me would go
for tactless. And I am hoping that’s no longer true now. Of course, there are
occasions when I would rant on Facebook, but that’s only because I am feeling.
Sometimes, when our lives run out of love, anger just spurts out from holes we
could not cover. That’s my truth.
The reason I don’t worry about
what other people will say about the negativity they’ll think I’m spreading is because
I have lived at least half of my life suppressing truths because I thought the
lies would save me. When I realized I had been wrong, I spoke my truth every
chance I got.
What were the lies? Why do I
think too much? Feel too much? Why isn’t this your truth? I could only wish it
were so that you’d understand me better. That would be a terrible thing to wish
for, however. The thing is, I’m not someone who grew up with adults telling me,
“hey, you’re fine,” or, “just let that go,” or “be happy.” I had to figure all
of that on my own. I woke up every time the sun would peek the tiniest bit through our house while everyone's still asleep and snoring so
I could observe my surroundings, and prove to myself that everything that’s
happening in my life wasn’t just a nightmare, and that they were real. I had no
one to share those discoveries with because it wasn’t like a box of chocolate
that everyone will be happy about. Yes, I had to figure out how to be fine on
my own. I climbed guava trees to write my poems down. I stayed up late until
i-FM’s midnight playlist drowned the noises in my head out. I had to find a way
to survive. To date, here I am, still trying.
What brought me here is the fact
that people are trying to get me to shut up. And I do get where they’re coming
from. It’s hard to deal with people who have a lot to say, especially those who
say the negative ones. They’re pains not only in the neck, but all the way down
to the spine. However, there’s this thing Psychology calls coping, and these
people you hate could just be doing that, and you’re taking that away from them
just 'cause it’s ruining your own peace of mind. If you got so lucky with your
lives so that you have nothing to complain about, then good for you. If you got
lucky with your lives so that everything just instantly becomes sunny as desired, then good for you. If you got lucky with your lives so that you can
only talk about the cool, the positive, and the lovely things, then good for
you. But please, just please, with all humility, I ask you to leave the drama
queens alone, the pessimists, the ones ensnared by depression, the poets who
are lonely, the ones who prefer the sunset, or everyone who’s just trying to live
their lives in the best way they know how.
‘Coz do you know something? You’d
only know how a pebble hurts someone’s feet until you put on his shoe.
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