Just a waste of time, you don’t have to read this.
My professor once said thatthe favorite child was the weakest and the one who needs help. They were the one who always cry, got sick or even fall down from playing hide and seek. This post is not about them because obviously, I wasn’t the favorite child. My mom takes care of my youngest brother and my dad plays with the other one. I was the eldest and I had to take care of myself. I had to stand up on my own everytime I scrape my knees, I managed to understand my hard subjects on my own because they were busy teaching my brothers, I even had to sleep hugging my pillow. As a little girl, I was fighting for attention but I don’t want my brothers to feel the same so I just told myself to get used to it. They assumed I was strong, that I can take care of myself, that I wasn’t the one who needed help. Well, I thought I was too.
During highschool, I became the girl they wanted me to be. I became independent, cheerful, competitive and strong. But I became so insecure. I was never contented and I feel that I was not accepted. Sure, I made a lot of friends. I really treasure them though. But they never knew who I am. They just knew the happy, cheerful, responsible, strong girl. They never knew the real me.
Today, I mastered the art of faking smiles. I appeared strong and cheerful but nobody knew I was breaking inside. Nobody knew my overflowing insecurities. Nobody knew that I needed help. Nobody, even my parents.
“Where were they when I needed them?”
“You are broken. Other people may help you get the pieces back together, but only you can glue it back all together. Help yourself.”
“I flip open the book in front of me and land on a picture of Peter Pan leading Wendy out her window to Neverland, which warms and breaks my heart at the same time. It reminds me of my childhood, and when I believed in shit like that. When I believed that when something goes wrong and the monsters decide to come for you, some fantastical imaginary friend from the box of VHS tapes under the tv would somehow just know that you were in trouble and would come to your rescue. It’s such a bitch when the day comes where you finally have to shed your fantasies, and no matter how long you try and put it off, you eventually and unfortunately have to grow up. Because after your teenage years start melting away, after all the beer bongs, backseats and premature broken hearts, life will inevitably start dragging you kicking and screaming headfirst into adulthood, and you have no say in the matter. There’s no rewind button, and you can only put yourself on pause for so long after the moment when you realize that your parents aren’t super heroes and that they aren’t always going to be there to fight your battles for you. There’s always going to be periods of time in life when it’s going to be just you, and that if you’re going to make it, you have to be your own hero within a reality that can be so hard to stomach. In my heart I know that nobody’s going to come rescue me from this, and that it really is all up to me. Nobody’s going to come for me in the way that I want them to. Nobody’s going to save me. So whatever, fuck it. I guess I’ll just do it myself. I’ll save me instead. But god fucking damn it, I wish he was real. I wish that I was someone’s Wendy Darling. I wish that someone braver and stronger than me would show up out of the blue and rush me off to the sky and to a place where I would be young forever. But it was in that moment, this moment, that I let the fantasies fade and accepted the reality that I’ve stumbled into, and that I will learn how to fight my monsters on my own if I have to. But if for whatever reason all our fantasies ever decide to switch places with our bitter realities, and it does actually fucking happen, if I ever break free from this rusty cage and fly, then so help me God, if you’re like me and you’re ever in trouble, expect me, because I will fucking come back for you. I promise.
I let out a melodramatic sigh and roll my eyes at myself and my constant stream of overly-analytical poetic thoughts. I stare at the picture for a few seconds, reluctantly pick up a green crayon off the table, and slowly begin adding color to the blank page.”
— An excerpt from Caged Boy Sings: the movie extravaganza. Or maybe I meant to say book. You’ll find out soon enough, but either way, it’s coming soon. (via ding-ang-bato
21 People On What They Would Tell Their 19-Year-Old Selves
There is no such thing as “the only one”. You will meet lots of “the ones”. Only commit when the timing is right for the both of you – that can take years for some, and that’s okay.
Deodorant does not count as a shower, and that haircut only looked good on Bon Jovi.
Make the conscious decision to be happy, and then stick with it. Society will do everything in its power to convince you that your personal happiness is dependent on something external – beauty, success, wealth, etc. – it isn’t.
60% of the things you think are important now won’t matter a whit to you by the time you reach 50. The trick is to figure out the important 40% and work it.
He doesn’t love you, and you will be okay.
Don’t let anything stand in your way of taking part (or all) of your junior year abroad. You’ll never again have quite the same opportunity to experience a foreign land, for an extended period of time, in your youth. It is destined to be one of the most memorable aspects of your life.
Talk less. Listen more.
There’s a huge difference between who you want to be and who everyone around you wants you to be. Figure out which is which.
Always remember: when falling off a horse, pull your tongue in.
No one knows anything for sure. They’re all just doing the best they can with what they have, just like you.
You’ll never have all the answers, so make every question count.
You don’t have to grow up to be the dad you never had.
Make the most out of college. You will never again be at a place where your only goal is to learn. Learn a lot, learn often, and learn with reckless abandon.
Women love to laugh.
Drugs are not beautiful, glamorous or opulent. They are not a remedy, a solution, a cure-all, or a cure-anything.
You miss so much life when you sleep until 3 PM. Wake up to see sunrises; they are the most stunning of nature’s masterpieces.
Eating two pints of ice cream won’t make you happy. Neither will sprinting 10 miles. Be nice to yourself.
Don’t forget to ask that girl in the Oberlin library what kind of perfume she’s wearing. You’ll buy it for her in 20 years.
Don’t be afraid to be yourself. Those that get you will love you, those that don’t, well, their loss. Just remember: Wherever you are, it’s a party.
I hope you’re awesome. And be nice to girls.