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.



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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Separate Ways

We were sitting on the couch one day, watching our favorite TV show. Pizza boxes on the floor, soda bottles and bags of chips lying everywhere.

It dawned on me that maybe we’ve been together too long. It dawned on her too, that things weren’t the same as before.

It was a comedy, you know, our favorite TV show. We loved it, but we were on the last episode of the final season. As is the case with any other comedy shows, it has a happy ending. The main protagonist got her dream job, found a boyfriend, and is happily dating him. The male support found a wife and they now have a baby. The protagonist’s bestfriend just got wed.

“What a happy life,” I told myself. I wish I have that.

Credits rolled and we waited for the next episode to play on Netflix, but instead it gave us shows similar to our favorite.

“So, what’s next?” she asked me. And my usual stupid reply “I don’t know” spurted from my mouth.

Maybe she got the wrong signal, maybe I said it wrong, but the mood became different. I was excited and nervous. She was nervous and worried when I talked to her.

“Maybe we could talk?” I asked her. “We haven’t had a conversation in a while.”

“What’s it about?”

“I don’t know, about life, the future? What do you see in us?”

“Why a sudden serious tone?” She was shocked.

“Listen, I bought a ring. It is cheap, but it’s the thought that counts. Maybe we could move forward to something more? I think we have something going on between us.” I confessed.

I showed her the ring that I bought at Walmart. I don’t have enough money to buy a decent one, but I was hoping that my love would supplement my lack of budget.

Expressions words cannot explain ran through her face and her mind filled with thoughts maybe of excitement, maybe of joy, or maybe of fear and angst.

“I don’t know, this wasn’t really what I was expecting.” She told me.

“Listen, we’ve been together for too long, and I don’t know, I fee like things aren’t the same as before.” She added. “I am sorry, but I don’t think we should do that and well… I don’t know if we should continue this.”

She broke up with me. And that was it. I didn’t know what I felt back then. I didn’t feel remorse. In fact, I felt free. I felt like I could do more things in my life now. That I could go to different places and meet different people because I don’t have attachments anymore.

“Okay, if that’s your decision, I won’t even ask the reason behind,” I said sheepishly. “I guess I should leave now.”

It was funny because out of impulse I took the box of pizza that has probably three slices with me. Just as I was leaving the house, I thought she was gonna say something. Actually, I was sure she was, but I didn’t even bother waiting. I slammed the door behind, went to my car and drove away.

We are on separate ways now.

Last night, I was reading Greek mythology and I happened to read about the part where Hercules killed his wife and children, not on his own will of course, but under influence of Hera, Zeus’s jealous wife.

I don’t know why, but I stopped there. It felt weird. It felt heavy on my chest. This is a bad analogy, but I felt like she and I were Hercules and his family. Maybe I killed the love we had because of delusions of a wedded life, a future family. Or maybe she was Hercules and I was the wife.

And she killed me.

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