What Fear Makes In Us...

The saddest thing reality can give me, is showing that there are things that are not meant to be.

Am I still dreaming? Maybe I am. And I haven't woken up. And maybe I refused to wake up. That I still slumber under my parents house, maybe that's why. That I fear facing telephones. I fear facing the interviewers. I fear almost everything that has reality ringing on it.

What have I learned in school? For almost twenty freaking years?

I have been irresponsible. Were my calls of support empty, after all? Am I not in the position to say something that supports or encourage my friends? Not simply because I am a friend, but because I have something to tell? That there is something better than good. That happiness is not just something that passes by, but also something that we earn.

What are these?

Is it empty positivity? Oh, there it is - naivety?

After graduation, I have succumbed to a promise with my parents. What's there behind my willingness? Is it really compassion for them? Or is it an extension to my teenage freedom?

People regard me as someone with full of optimism with a promising future. What was that? A masquerade? I wished to be someone infectiously optimistic as one of my idols, Luffy. I want to face reality head on, and throw what things I can throw. And if ever they don't come back, at least it's better to have tried at all.

But people seemed to have regarded me as that. Optimistic. Childish. Patient. A girl with simple pleasures.

Who was that?

Pessimism resided darkly in me as well. It could have probably saved me from what I'm feeling right now, if I bred it right. If I listened to it intently. Why, I have survived high school listening to it mostly. And trying to convert that energy to living.

But I did not want reality mess with me. I did not want it to blemish my colorful look of tomorrow, even though I foresee something bleak on it. I did not want to show that to others, seeing as they already see it as bleak. They already have a feeling as to what lies ahead.

I wanted to be someone who can tell them, it's alright. You just have to do what you gotta do. Do what you want that you know you'll never regret. Smile once in a while. Laugh at your problems. Cry if you have to but don't forget to raise your head after. After night is day. And the world has 365 days to live for.

But. Think about it. Who am I to say these things. I know nothing of their sufferings, their pains, their sacrifices. I may have been informed, but I don't know what that feels like. I don't know how they start their mornings, what they see when they ride a jeep/fx/taxi, what they feel when their boss demand of their presence.

So who am I to just suddenly blurt out nonsense like this in an effort to make things light? How could they feel it if my words are nothing but an empty words of a kid who has only opened windows but not doors towards reality?

I really feel foolish. I came to believe that they believe me. I believed I believe myself.

I simply wanted to help. I can't even help myself.

What use is that?