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Category Archives: sadness strikes too

I currently hate what I’m feeling. If only I could fuck it off easily from my system. Sadly, it ain’t easy. I don’t want to be insecure. I don’t want to be envious. I want to be satisfied and simply be happy with what I have. But how can I avoid that. With my 6 years of my professional life I’ve done nothing spectacular. Heck, I’ve never been out of Luzon or experienced riding a plane. I don’t have any flashy gadgets. I have to work hard or double my savings just to buy what I want. I don’t want to live a life full of hardship and insecurity. I want my life to be easy.

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Don’t get me wrong but I love my friends. It’s just that sometimes, they piss me off when I suggest something really good but they are just disregarding it. They just love going to the same old places, places that are just too good to be a rendezvous point but not really a hangout spot. When I suggest a new spot, they don’t give a damn to check those places. It frustrates me.

That’s why I often go out alone because I know everytime I invite them somewhere (like watching a movie or something) they won’t join me. They’ll say they are busy or whatever. They will only come if I tell them that it’s my treat.

So if you’re my friend reading this, I want you to know…

I WANT TO BE HEARD, TO BE NOTICED. I AM NOBODY’S FOLLOWER.

Most people misunderstand only children. They often say that only children are spoiled brats, bitches, selfish and anti-socials. Some part of it is true, but mostly not and it depends on the upbringing of the only children—be it by their guardians or by their parents. Being an only child is not that bad, at times, it’s good.

An only child means I have no doubts that my parents love me and I’m pretty sure that I’m their favorite child. There’s no one to compete with except for our pets. I am the sole heir of my parents’ possessions. It’s just that most of my mom’s possessions are the souvenirs of attended baptisms and weddings and my dad has these badly pirated copies of blockbuster and B-movies. Our family doesn’t have so many issues. I do most of the dramas at home.

Another thing I like being an only child, I am not lonely if I’m hanging out to a nearby mall or ridiculously watching a date movie all by myself—I still avoid suspense movies though. I still enjoy the company of friends but being alone at most times doesn’t make me slash my wrist with emoness. This is what I learned for having no siblings, I’ve taught myself to be individualistic.

If there’s one thing that’s sad for only children, it’s sharing. I just don’t mean sharing of clothes or inheriting a brother’s shoes—my feet is size 10 btw. It’s not also sharing rent or relating kinky experiences with a sibling an only child misses. It’s the sharing of sadness and pain.

My lola, who recently passed away at 85, was lucky to have 10 children. My dad, her son, shares the same pain he is having along with his siblings. But for an only child, a parent passing away or simply being sick, the pain is aggravated. He solely receives the impact his parents are having. It will also be painful for an only child to see his parents arguing since he can’t be biased with his feelings toward his parents. And when he knows that both of his parents has a killer disease lurking inside them, he is pushed to live a “perfect” life for his beloved ones.

This is just a POV of an only child like me. I may have a cousin who I treat as my brother but I don’t know if that’s the same feeling of having a blood brother. I am not also sure if the feeling of an only child will differ when he finds a partner in life. Hopefully, it would.

It is supposed to be raining generously this month yet the streets are more of like a flaming inferno that not even a devil can take it. I can feel my sweat sizzling whenever they are breaking out of my skin. It’s not just that hot, my ears are reverberating the songs of the ancient people; my parents.

Every Sunday, it has been a habit in our house to tune in to a local obnoxious radio station that transforms our speakers to a time machine one way to the past. It plays songs that seems to be extinct nowadays that can only be heard from the karaoke machines on the streets sung by drunkards or those who wants to be killed instantly.
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Dark clouds dominated the skyline as the raindrops started pouring. Tears also started rolling down my cheeks inside our bedroom so no one else would see except for myself that was peeking from a small mirror. Sadness consumed me, darkness shrouded me. I had cried on all corners of our house like a dog pee reminding others that it was his territory; only mine were tears telling everyone of a great pain had punctured me. My aunt had a stroke.
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Thoughts now are still garbled with anxiety. Each minutes of a freaky situation are stuck in this brain. I must not think about it anymore, I’m stressed, I’m tormented. I want to stop thinking but it is still fresh, like blood hardly stained in here.

It was Sunday afternoon. A strong abaca rope looped to fit a neck waiting for my bro (cousin) to choke himself. I pushed our bedroom’s window seeing my cousin already putting his neck on that looped abaca. He was stunned seeing me through that window and stopped the insanity he was doing. Our hearts were pounding fast and every beat was a response to our adrenaline, fear, anxiety and troubled thoughts. I just saved the life of my cousin.

Anxiety and paranoia rules over me until now. I still can’t get over those thoughts. Worried sick of the events, I want to move over and think positively. But while this paranoia dominates me, I can’t go on even if my birthday is already tomorrow. I can’t stop worrying everytime my cousin is spending time alone in our room or when I leave home to go to work. A spec of insanity disrupts all the positive thoughts in me. I’m still scared. And yes, I’m already torturing myself.

He is alive and he swears he’ll never do that again. He also admitted before that he did this years back too. This was his second attempt killing himself. There is a verbal contract now, but knowing he did this twice already how can I put my mind at ease. I’m scared that once he do this stupidity again, I would not find him breathing. Anxiety has already made his throne in my confused head. My soul wants to go back to me now. I need to come back, be revived and steal that throne.

He’s alive. He promised. Now, I should get back to my life. I should bring back my sanity.