Alone on the 4th

Yesterday was a day celebrated by Americans and many non-Americans who live in the country. Companies are closed, people gather, fireworks, beers, and barbecue! What more could you ask life for, right?

Anyway, like the previous 4th of July’s that I went through, this year was no different. I was alone. I stayed home, watched TV, and played video games. I didn’t even bother looking outside for fireworks. It was a simple night. A normal night for me. I’m not American to begin with, so it was not a big deal for me not to celebrate yesterday.

And then a question popped up on my mind. Why do we desire to be with people? “No (hu)man is an island” is what my mind’s mind answers me when I ask about these things. I do think that celebration calls for celebration and celebration, most of the times, is more fun to do with people. Watching a movie in a movie theater is better done with people too.

But, why do we desire people all the time? Why do we feel shy when we go to a restaurant to eat alone? or go to the movies alone? Why do we feel embarrassed when somebody asks us where our “dinner date” is?  Why do we even ask people where their “dinner dates” are? How about hiking alone or travelling alone? Going to the beach or pool alone? A lot of times we end up not doing these activities because there’s nobody to do them with.

Where am I getting on with this? Ask yourself: are you too dependent on people that you rely on them to do things? I think we ought to be self-confident enough to be able to handle situations and do whatever we wanna do alone. I think we need to know ourselves enough to not rely on people, or start doing things alone and get to know ourselves more. There is a different kind of joy or ecstasy or assurance, knowing who we are when we’re alone. It’s the kind of joy nobody can give us but only us. Isolation opens our eyes to who we are deep in ourselves. A better definition of our nature compared to what people think of us.

Yes, celebrate with people. Be with people. Go out with them. Enjoy being with them. But don’t forget who you are when they are not there. And celebrate it too.

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Talk About Getting Old

I recently watched two videos wherein people react to certain things or events. One of the video is teens reacting on songs by Twenty One Pilots, and the other is about people of different age group reading and trying to explain the lyrics of a song by Blink 182 titled “What’s my age again”? One song of Twenty One Pilots that was on the first video is titled “Stressed out”.

People who are familiar with those songs know the topic I want to talk about. Age. Blink 182’s song is about acting your age (the guy in the song is 23 years old and he’s “childish” the way the song talks about him), while the Pilots’ song is about being stressed out (obviously) of the adult responsibilities and what not and wanting to turn back time.

Two years ago last month, I decided to change the direction of my life and live independently. I moved out of my country and moved in the US. I consider this the best choice I ever made and also the hardest one.

I have to pay all my bills on my own, rent, phone, food, and whatever else I need to pay for, but at the same time I get to decide what I want to do with my life. Now, I am working part-time and also going to college with complete units.

Sometimes I feel the stress, a lot of times I get tired, and of course every now and then I feel accomplished and satisfied. Most of the times I feel a mixture of these. It is hard to live independently when you’re just starting out, can’t get any job other than an entry-level job, and at the same time being a student with nobody helping you out. But did I ever feel like giving up?  This may sound like I’m bragging, but NO, I never felt it. Sure sometimes I felt that I need to rest, but that’s perfectly normal. Giving up? No. I came here to win. I came here to conquer the oceans. The mountains. To take back my life. To go against the flow. To not follow people. To choose my own path. I grew up. and I’m still growing.

Yes, I did and I don’t want to turn back time. I enjoy it. I enjoy that I take the responsibilities, the consequences of my actions, and the reward of my hard work. I enjoy growing up. I enjoy being an adult.

I keep on hearing people my age (or older, or younger) saying they wish they didn’t grow up. For me, it’s one of the best things that happened in my life. I gained the ability to choose for myself, to help myself, to improve, and, in the process, to know myself better.

This self-realization is one of the best experience I ever felt and I can’t wait to feel it some more.

 

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[_]

They left me here.

Alone in this dreary place.

I saw them leave.

One by one.

by One.

Out of this cage.

.

Can’t open the door.

Barely made a dent on it.

I searched around. Nothing.

Wait, what is that?

I see a bowl with food in it.

Do they want me to live?

Or do they want me to suffer in here?

A single bowl of food.

Eternity in prison.

I don’t understand.

.

What time is it?

Day? Month?

Is forever over yet?

I don’t know.

.

Hold on a second.

I hear something outside the door.

Somebody’s opening it.

My savior.

Gotta run, gotta run fast.

I’m almost there.

Sunshine peeking through the door.

Almost. Three feet.

One foot more.

Almost.

.

My savior. Finally.

Let me hear your voice.

Your sweet sweet voice.

‘Come here buddy, who’s the good boy?’

‘Are you the good boy?’

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Two Sentence Horror Story

It was our 5th anniversary and I decided to go out to drink when I saw her standing by the door, asking if I want to dance.

We danced the whole night and I woke up the next morning seeing her beside me, wearing the same clothes she wore on her funeral day, and a “Happy 5th Anniversary” Card in her hand.

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When I turned 21…

my dad gave me 3 pairs of socks.

3 pairs of socks.

But it’s the thought that counts.🙂

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