From Afar

You get angry. You lash out. You throw things around. You say things- things that may be true, things that may not be, either way they are things meant to hurt us. You pretend to be strong, standing all by yourself, but your solitary image just looks pitiful from where I stand. I know better than to believe the brave face you put on. Years of having one-sided conversations with you have taught me that you are far more vulnerable than you'd like to admit. I know because I listened. Now, if only you knew how to do that. If only you did not allow a mere number like age become such a great divide between us.

You are the woman who never asked me how I was doing no matter how dreadful I must have looked. And, so you are a woman we never asked about because by never asking us that question, you never gave us permission to ask it of you. You live on pride and you believe in a rigid hierarchy. So much so that asking that simple question can be misconstrued as an affront to you. Regardless, I know how you are doing. Or, at least, I know as much as what I can glean from your actions, your words and the feelings you try to hide.

You are the woman whose silent cries move me to tears even if my own tears never seemed to move you. Life is harsh, with numerous obstacles in the way. Humans were not made to live life alone. Yet, you seem to keep trying to do this. You boast about the things you've managed to do on your own and claim that you need no one. But in the solitude of your room, you hunch your back- weighed down by the world- and shed quiet tears. I am sorry. I understand your struggles but I cannot share them. Our inability to level with each other makes it impossible to share burdens. And, in the end, I struggle tremendously under the weight of your accusations of my indifference, the pressure to make something of the life you so "generously" gave to me, and my own need to become who I was meant to be.

You are the woman who never says 'sorry' and 'thank you' but always forces those words from us. What has the world come to that now gratitude and remorse are things that are demanded from people? Are these not feelings that need to be born of sincerity? We've argued this to you, of course, but you just raised your voice higher as if being louder means you are right. Do you not hear the contempt behind the words we grudgingly mutter? Have you become that indifferent or do you just not know sincerity? Humans are imperfect. Everyone makes mistakes. But you never admit to yours because you believe that to fulfill your role you must be irreproachable. I keep saying that you are not, but I don't get to say that, do I? Because I am lower than you.

You are a woman whose self-centered words make your selfless acts meaningless. You insist you are self-sacrificing, yet in every opportunity you get you demand that we pay you back for the career you could have had, the blissful single life you could have enjoyed. You say you did everything for us in the same breath that you admit that you wish we hadn't been born. You are lost in your own pool of regrets and, with no one else to blame, you blame us. You say I am a child- ignorant of the world. But I know this thing- they are not really sacrifices if you have to keep demanding us for the cost of what you lost. And so, your continuous nagging make it almost impossible for me to feel grateful to you.

You are a narcissitic perfectionist. You need everything to be perfect and done in the way you would do it- because in your mind, your way is the best way. You have so much confidence in yourself- your abilities, your knowledge. You think you are superior to everyone. It must be the god complex doctors have. So, you micromanage everything and then claim that you are exhausted, not realizing that it was you who overexerted yourself. You don't realize the difference between things you must do and things you do because you cannot bear to see someone else do it in a "substandard" way. If only you can let go of the reins just a little bit, you would not feel as weary as you look.

You are the woman who, according to this blasted thing called a birth certificate, is my mother but I never felt that you were one. You are my biological mother but you did not raise me. Based on conventional roles, I would label you more as a father- the provider, the disciplinarian. Regardless, I am connected to you by a bond I cannot sever. It is a curious connection. After all, it is one that demands that I love you even before I was old enough to utter the word. But it does not make me automatically like you.

You are the woman I am most indebted to. In my calm and composed state, I am able to recognize all the things that you have gone through for us and I will always be grateful for that. But when you speak to me and you say things you need to say to feel better about yourself, I can feel bits and pieces of myself being chipped off. You make me feel small to make yourself feel strong. You make me doubt my self-worth to reinforce yours. And, until we can talk on the same level and come to an understanding, I can never like you.

In the end, all I want to say is that I love you. Neither one of us is perfect and I know that. I'm waiting for the time that you acknowledge that, too. I will always love you. But, I need to love myself, too. You know all the chinks in my armor and you insist on shooting at them. You so easily break down the barriers I thought were impenetrable. So, I'll go far away from you. Because distance is my last defense. I will keep loving you from afar because that is the only way I can also still love myself.

Out of the Bubble

It's ridiculous. I can remember so vividly how much I've longed to finally be done with school. To finally be free of having to deal with home works, projects, exams. To finally have full control of my life. I thought that was what being an adult meant. I thought it would mean freedom from the suffocating restraints of school and overbearing parents. I thought it would mean freedom from the unwarranted expectations of teachers and peers. I thought it would mean freedom to do what I've always wanted to do.

The world that I was so eager to explore now seem too big, too wide, too vast. And, I am nothing more than a small existence in this great space that I feel like I could get swallowed whole in an instant. I have no direction. I have no destination. And, at times, I feel like I don't even know where I currently stand.

The force of the world is so strong- comparable to the raging currents of an overflowing river. And, in that river, I am but a small fish doing my best to find my own direction, regardless of the flow of the water. I am exhausting all my energy, but with no destination in mind, I can only try my best to keep myself in that same spot so I don't get lost any further. Someone told me that falling back on your own life plan is better than being in the same spot, never moving forward nor back. So, should I let myself rest and allow the currents to carry me whichever way it wants?

The world is vast. Yes, I've known that. But I didn't realize that suddenly being thrown out of the protective bubble I've been in would make me so incapable of making a decision. There are so many what-if's, so many could-there-be's. I worry what will happen if I do something, then worry again about the consequences if I don't do it. I thought I had freed myself of my chains, only to realize that I have wound around me a thousand more- chains of doubt, of uncertainty, of fear. I do not feel any freer than I was before.

As a person of considerable talent with more than a healthy amount of ego and ambition, I have many dreams. There are many things I want to grasp within my hands but reality has taught me that it isn't as easy as I once thought it would be. I see the routes to each aspiration at the same time that I see the hurdles that block my way. I want to have them all but cannot even envision the way beyond those obstacles. And, as such, my dreams have become nothing more than drawings on the sand with the waves crashing in to erase what little progress I've made.

I am lost. I have no direction. I have no destination. And, even with a destination, I cannot see past the darkness that hovers over my path. My uncertainty makes me hesitate. My fear plants my feet on the ground. And, each day, little by little, my hope dims. In my current state, I am bound to fail.

I wasn't ready. I still am not ready.

But, then again, are we ever really ready for anything?

Split Second Choices and Lasting Consequences

Have you ever had one of those moments where you lost all common sense for the smallest fraction of a second only to be bombarded by a magnitude of guilt the next second? To the point that you regret the moment you were even born?

I heard the alarm bells in my head even as I made that fatal decision. But even then, it was already too late. It was one of those moments where panic and fear seizes your heart so strongly that you abandon your morality and sense of responsibility. It was the kind of decision that leads to sleepless nights and hopeless mornings.

I panicked. But that in itself is an excuse. Even now, a small part of my heart whispers to me, chiding me for being a coward. I was afraid. I feared the consequences of my mistake and in my fear I had inevitably committed a graver sin. How's that for stupidity?

But in cases like these, where you do something to cover up a mistake, what are you supposed to do? It was a sin committed against God, an offense against my superior, and an insult to my integrity. Was I supposed to ignore the prickling of my consciense and swallow my principles just so I could escape this circumstance unscathed? Wouldn't that be cowardice? I didn't want to be a coward. Ironic, isn't it? Wasn't it my cowardice that got me in this situation in the first place?

If I confessed to my sin, there was a chance that I would lose all the work I've put into the last three years of my life. If I didn't, they probably wouldn't even notice it and everything will go on smoothly. In the end, it became a war between my worldly self and my morally upright self. How wonderful would it have had been if I could have had been able to put a mute on the warring voices in my head and pretend that nothing happened? The thing is, I heard them.

As an answer to my desperate prayers for guidance, I ended up watching a Korean drama(Who Are You, School Series 2015) that featured a similar circumstance. The teacher reminded his student that when you make a mistake and you choose not to put it to right, you might not suffer any immediate consequences but you might lose the ability to tell right from wrong. The words were nothing but simple facts but they resounded in my heart, reminding me of what I already knew. To seal the deal, the friend who recommended the series to me gave a solid advice.

"If you're stuck between two difficult choices, always choose to do the right thing."

I admitted my mistake to my superior. I had to wait over a week to hear the verdict. But I was able to rest relatively well, bar my discomfort over my superiors knowing about my blunder. I was not dismissed but was dealt a greater deal of consequence than I would have had been given had I not panicked in the first place.

Still, I learned what it truly means to take responsibility. I've proven that despite my half-heartedness in my course, I respect it enough that I could not allow myself to finish it by cheating myself and my superiors. I was reminded that there are things more important than a clean record, than pride, than reputation.

My words may be vague and confusing but let me be clear about my message. It's okay to make mistakes. It's okay to be tempted to do wrong. It's okay to succumb to temptation. We are human. But let us not allow ourselves to lose our humanity by choosing to ignore our conscience.

Is your moral compass still functional?

What are friends for?

It's a simple question. And, I have a simple answer to it that might offend most- if not all- of you.  So, before I go off defending myself, let's start with a simpler question. What are friends? That should be easy enough to answer. Or, at least it should be, considering that we've been going around making friends since we were in diapers. But, then, everything was simpler when we were younger. Now? Not so much.

Friend. A textbook definition would be a person who is in good terms with another. That seems straight-forward enough, right? But then we got older and we began to realize that there are people we were in good terms with but hold at a distance. The simple motion of saying 'Hi' and agreeing on your favorite TV show is no longer enough to consider this stranger a friend. We began to be more picky about the people we hand that title to. We began to distinguish between acquaintances, friends, close friends and all those fun circles. And, with this complication in judging our relationships with other people, we began to build up greater expectations from friends. We began to demand more while not necessarily giving more. We began to throw around suffocating chains without considering whether the level of attachment is mutual.

As years go by, we realize just how huge this world is. We meet more and more people. We are exposed to more and more types of personalities. And, at the same time, we grow, develop and change. Our perspective of life shifts. Our priorities are rearranged. Our beliefs are challenged. Yet, somehow, our friends are still the same -in the sense that they are the same existence but not necessarily the same people. After all, time has changed them, too. This is the thing we have a hard time understanding. We become so caught up with ourselves that we forget that the things that have changed us may have changed them, too. But experiences, even if they're the same, does not mold any two persons the same way. So we are stuck in a group of people we once held close to our hearts but no longer relate to. The sad thing is, we begin to demand that they remain compatible to who we have become. We expect them to compromise themselves to fit our needs and wants. But, of course, that wouldn't work. Not in the long run, at least. And, within the wreckage, we realize one thing: that friendship never stood a chance, not with the way we handled it.

Time changes us. We grow. And, sometimes, we just grow apart. It's nobody's fault. It just happens. But, even in these cases, I see no reason to feel sad. All things come to an end. All you can do is wish for that friend to find happiness among new companions and for you to have the same. There is no need to mourn for the loss of a friendship, after all, those good memories of better times will remain untainted. And, when things settle down and when you're in a clearer state of mind, you can revisit those moments with your friend. And, you'll have fun but you'll know deep inside that parting ways- no matter the manner it was done- was the right decision.

Friendship is a relationship founded on common ground but strengthened by accepting your differences. But there are times when those differences create a gap so wide that it can't be bridged over by any compromise. It's just a matter of acknowledging this and learning when to let go.

Okay, so yeah. Maybe that wasn't as easy a question to answer as I thought it was. And, I'm pretty sure there are a lot of people who disagree with my perspective but since I'm on a roll, let's keep going. What are friends for? Hearing the echoes of my words, it seems as though I'm saying that friends are nothing but companions you keep around until they're no longer useful to you. In a way, that's true. Now if only I can figure out a more eloquent way of saying that.

Friendship is a give and take relationship. And, when you can no longer give what the other needs or when that other person can no longer give what you need, then it's only logical to call it quits. That just sounds so clinical, so detached, that I'm starting to wonder how I even still have friends. But it is the reality we live in. Or, for your sake, I hope it is the reality you live in. Because when a relationship has long passed its due date but you continue to maintain it, you will realize sooner or later that it is doing you more harm than good.

Friends are there to support you, to encourage you, to empathize with you, and, when necessary, to push you to action. They are those great beings who can help you go beyond what you assumed to be your limits. And, in return, you do these things for them, too. The thing is, we don't always want to share all our moments to all our friends. It's disgusting to admit it but there are some friendships we enjoy in moments of triumph and some friendships we nurture in moments of despair. We are all constantly changing. We're going through life in different ways. And, that doesn't always allow us the ability to accommodate our friends' needs at all times nor are they always able to accommodate us. But, sometimes, it's just the difference in personalities that limits us from being able to live through all phases of life together with them. So, we choose what moments we want to share with whom. This may build distance between us and our friends but it's better than losing them altogether. Unless, of course, we happen to be lucky enough to find the Cristina to our Meredith, then all this is moot. Because that friendship was a match made in heaven.

Some will consider my words as downright rude and insulting but I believe it holds merit. And, I'm pretty sure that some people think that I'm a user. I don't think I am. But if believing in all of these makes me one, then I guess that's what I am.

Auction Open for Bidding, Item: Me

How much are you? Or to put it more tactfully, what's your worth?

This is actually a rather tricky question. How do you decide on a specific amount? Should we have been born with a bar code on our wrists? That would have had been horrendous. In the end, it's not a simple matter of deciding how much you are but of how you even begin to measure your worth. I mean, to most of the people in the world, a person probably wouldn't be worth much. He probably wouldn't even be worth anything. But to the precious few who know him and care for him, possibly even love him, he would be worth a lot- priceless, even. In this sense, worth is subjective.

But, I dare say that worth should be intrinsic. It's something that you should decide on your own. It should depend on how valuable you believe yourself to be. It is about self-worth, self-confidence and self-esteem. And, so worth should be decided through our perspective of ourselves. It goes in the same manner as how we decide how much respect our colleagues should show us, how expensive we allow ourselves to splurge on ourselves, how much love we allow ourselves to accept. We decide our own worth. Or, at least, I believe that we should.

It is sad to say that, for many people, this isn't the case. Often times, it's actually the opposite. We allow others to dictate how much respect we deserve. We allow their opinions of us to influence how we see ourselves. And, I have to admit that I have fallen victim to this scheme many times in the past. It is actually quite embarrassing to remember how many times I've allowed myself to wallow in a pit of self-pity and shame because I had allowed other people to convince me that I was undeserving, that I was beneath them, and essentially that I was worthless.

It's ridiculous how easy it had been for them to make me to believe that I hadn't deserved as much as they had, that I hadn't been worth as much as they were, that I was a being of a lower class. It is worse, even, to think how easy I had made it for them to do these. After all, what kind of an idiot accepts judgment from monsters who know nothing but to feed on others? Who would allows snarky comment from others to shape what he thinks of himself? Who would allow meaningless words of others to get into his mind until he is eaten inside out? An unfortunate person who has yet to realize that his worth is something that is decided by his own love, respect and confidence in his self.

This is a rather difficult concept for me to wrap my head around. And, I have a feeling I haven't quite worded it in a way that would allow universal understanding, partly because this is an issue I was just recently having internal battles with. Nevertheless, it is something I needed to share not just because I needed to reassure myself of my worth but because I want others to start feeling more confident of their own worth.

And, be sure of this. In the moments when you start to doubt your worth, when family and friends have treated you like dirt, may you remember that there will always be someone who will see you as nothing less precious than the most valuable treasure.

"For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." John 3:16

Despite the many comforts of human friends and chocolates, it is in His arms that we find warmth, comfort and reassurance that reaches the soul.

Mutant and Proud

"Mutant and proud."

Some may recognize this phrase from a movie adaptation of X-Men and if you know this movie then you know that it's from some time ago. I honestly don't remember when the movie was released but seeing as I have the tendency to watch films only when the public's interest in them have died down, its probably a bit dated. But that's besides the point. It's been a few months since I watched the movie yet those three seemingly insignificant words continue to resound within me. Is it so weird that I so easily relate to the idea of being a mutant?

What do we mean by mutant? Not surprisingly, when people hear the word mutant, their first go to image is probably some gory monster followed by an image of wolverine or any of the other members of X-Men. I blame Hollywood. But that's a rant for another day. I was trying to point out that mutant can easily be taken to mean being different. And, that's the thing. Aren't we all different? We're all unique. We have our own little, weird quirks with our own take on things. In a way, we're all mutants. And, I really wish we'd all learn to be proud of that.

Tall, thin and adequately tanned body with a face arranged according to the golden ratio. People keep saying that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. It is supposedly a subjective attribute. Or at least, it was until some idiots came up with their idea of beautiful. And, then more idiots decided that there was no other kind of beautiful aside from this one idea. Now, everyone's hurting themselves trying to get themselves to fit a mold that, if we're being honest, is ill-fitting for most people. People have traded their unique bodies for a set of generic and unnatural parts. They have placed their self-esteem in the hands of hypocrites who know nothing but to spit out venomous words laced with envy and insecurity.

This kind of stupidity isn't limited to looks. Some have even gone so far as to attempt to change their attitudes, their likes and dislikes based on what is "acceptable" to society. It is pitiful. It is sad. It is true.

We were all created so beautifully unique yet, by our own choice, we attempt to become nothing more than a second-rate copy of an impossible model. We deserve more than pity hand outs from people. We deserve better. And, we are better. We just need to start embracing our true selves. We need to stop seeing the things that makes us different as ugly and recognize them for what they are. They are the very things that make us beautiful. So, I say, Mutant and proud.

Out with the Old, In with the New

As the year comes to an end, I can't help but think back to all the happenings of 2014. A lot has happened. A lot has changed. Some friendships were mended yet there were others still that were lost- to time, to distance, to trivial misunderstandings. Treasures have been lost, others found a way back to me somehow but the rest were lost to the world forever. People have come to disrupt my routine and have gone in just about the same abrupt manner. Lessons have been learned and unlearned. Experiences. Memories. Smiles. Laughter. Tears.

Too many things have happened in the past year. So how does one begin the coming year renewed? What does it mean to start fresh? To start with a blank slate? How do you take all these things and just... make them disappear? All the joy and the pains of these past months, how do you get rid of them? The answer is simple. You don't.

You are molded by your experiences, your memories- the moments that made you smile and laugh, the moments that made you cry and crumble, the moments that made you doubt yourself, the moments of your defeat and failures. So, how could you possibly just get rid of them in hopes of doing better the coming year by starting anew? Your memories are a part of who you are and you can't just do away with them. Even if they hurt. So, what we do is we keep them as closed chapters of our lives. We put them in boxes and leave them there until times come when we need to consult them to remind ourselves of our past mistakes, to relearn lessons once learned, to avoid repeating history. But for so long as they are not needed, they remain untouched and they become nothing more than the past that has led you into becoming who you are now.

The problem comes when you realize that not all memories can be boxed away because not all loose ends have been dealt with, not all questions have been answered, not all qualms have been put to rest. As you trudge through your memories, you realize how much unfinished business you have left. Are these not the things that you shouldn't bring to the next year? At least, not in the current state that they are in. These loose ends, questions and qualms, should you not settle them now?

I'm not sure I'm making sense. My mind appears to be a mess. Perhaps I am grieving the things I have lost this year- friends, ideologies, trust, hope. Or perhaps I am lost in the world of unfinished business I have yet to settle. Or perhaps this is simple the way my mind works.

The world is a curious, curious place. And, for lack of anything better to say, I wish you all a Happy New Year! May you put to rest any open cases before the year comes to an end.

Eyes Wide Open

The danger of open-mindedness is that you're opening yourself up to temptations. The price of having eyes with a panoramic view is a thinner skin- a weaker barrier against influence, a vulnerability to things that would have otherwise been unknown to you. Sooner or later, you realize that the nature that allowed you to be open-minded in the first place has amplified the whispers of darkness in your ears. And, it will be that very nature that will push you further into the arms of that darkness.

Why am I being so sinister? I suppose I'm still reeling from the realization of just how far I've allowed myself to go. It was not unlike getting a bucket of ice water dumped over my head. I've always prided myself for the ability to put myself out there while maintaining my hold on my self, my beliefs and my principles. It had taken me a long time to realize my situation. Or perhaps I knew it as soon as I stepped over the line, I was just in denial.

Let me start at the beginning. There are two types of people. The first one includes those who are so set in their ways that they can't see anything past what they already know. They are those who close themselves off to other possibilities, other realities and other truths. They are those who don't bother to look at or even acknowledge the existence of other ways different from their own. And, this close-mindedness keeps them from seeing the whole picture. They simply believe that their way of life, their understanding of life is the right one. This goes against the scientist in me. After all, scientists are supposed to consider all the possibilities in an objective and unbiased perspective. Which is why I chose to be of the second type.

Open-mindedness is the ability to see every side to a situation. It doesn't mean that you have to agree with everything and everyone. It is more the willingness to understand every possible aspect before coming to a decision on what you stand by. It is in essence an exploration of all the cultures, a head dive into a sea of knowledge. And, it can be very fun and liberating. That is, for so long as you don't lose yourself in the currents. Because losing sight of who you are can be as easy as deciding to just go along for the ride into the unknown.

I lost myself. I didn't get into drugs or anything illegal, but still. Your very identity is structured around your morals, principles and beliefs. When you start acting against these, you chip away at yourself. And, just how much of yourself do you have to lose before realizing that something's wrong? Not too much, I hope. Because then, I wouldn't know what to do with myself.

The world is a beautiful place that should be seen without prejudiced staining. Just remember that all things beautiful have thorns.

I am Good Enough

What is the one thing that could hurt you the most? It's that one thing that people throw around like they have the right to do so. That one thing that could make a vulnerable soul crumble. Expectation. I can almost hear the boos and disgruntlement over this. And, I'm certain many would argue that love is a far more hurtful thing. Perhaps those people are right. Or perhaps they just don't realize how badly expectations can damage us. How deeply they can reach into our psyche.

I can no longer count the number of times I had nearly pushed myself over the edge for what someone else wanted me to be. It is almost humiliating to think of the amount of tears I once shed over something as silly as trying to uphold someone else's notion of who I am. You see, expectations are tricky little things. They have a way of snaking doubt into our minds and planting seeds of desperation and fear into our hearts. They make us doubt our own abilities, our own skills, our own identity. They make us desperate to reach for goals that are more often not our own. They make us fear failure and what others would think of us. They make us fear other people's opinion of us- their thoughts, their judgment, their disappointment.

Disappointment is born out of failed expectations. Expectations are nothing more than a person's unattainable dreams being projected onto others. It's nothing more than their way of trying to live life through another person. Expectations are images born out of someone's misguided interpretation of who a person is and who he/she can be. These are lethal poisons thrown around through off-handed comments, jokes, teasing threats and the like. It's almost too casually done for the kind of damage it deals to the unprepared.

It's sad how easily people discard who they are for the sake of trying to be someone they're not. Sadder, still, when they don't realize how doing so only detract from who they are. With every expectation made is bound to be a disappointment. And, with every disappointment, we allow someone else to take a part of us away. Why do we beat ourselves up over someone else's expectations of us? Worse yet, why allow ourselves to suffer by our own expectations of ourselves?

I doubt there's a way to eliminate expectations in the world. We can hardly eliminate poverty, how much better would we fare at phasing out unwarranted thoughts from naturally nosy beings? In the end, it's not other people we need to change but ourselves. We need to decide just how far we're going to let other people dictate how we live our own lives. We need to choose whose opinion matters and whose don't. We need to regain our self-confidence and believe in who we are.

"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." -Psalm 139:14

We are wonderful, beautiful creatures yet we keep trying to change ourselves because we don't - can't see ourselves in our entirety. And, maybe we do try to look at who we are but we look at mirrors that have been distorted by society's skewed standards and convince ourselves that something's lacking in us. You're wrong. It's just as Tohru Honda of Fruits Basket said,

"If you think of someone's good qualities as the umeboshi in an onigiri, it's as if their qualities are stuck to their back! People around the world are like onigiri. Everyone has an umeboshi with a different shape and color and flavor. But because it's stuck on their back, they might not be able to see their umeboshi."

This is for all the souls out there who feel that they aren't good enough, for all the spirits that have been beaten down, for all the hearts heavy with disappointment. I may not know your personal situation, but I do know this as a fact. You are an amazing, beautiful, wonderful creature with talents and strengths unique to you alone. And, no matter what the world's defective system of putting value to human beings says, you are invaluable. You are good enough, strong enough, beautiful enough, skilled enough.

A Child's Innocence

I never thought it to be a blessing. I had even equated it to naivety- stupidity, even. Childhood innocence seemed to be a waste. I was so eager to learn about the dirty, gritty matters of life that I so easily discarded it- too early on in my years, apparently. I thought that knowing the harsh realities of life would make the adults around me take me seriously. I thought that knowing meant more. It was too late when I realized that childhood innocence was a time-bound treasure that could not be brought back.

Oh, what bliss it was! To not see malice in every turn. To hold hands and hug a friend, and not have to worry about raising unwelcome feelings. To easily give and receive with no thought as to ulterior motives. To speak your mind freely and not have to worry about consequences. Or at least, nothing more than perhaps a scolding or even the bite of belt against flesh. To wake up in the morning and not feel a great burden on your shoulders. To look at friends and not question their motives. To look at the human population and not see the darkness that you now realize is present in everyone. To trust easily. To love freely. And, to laugh genuinely.

There is beauty in a child's innocence. One that I find difficult to explain. But I find joy in their kind, sweet smiles. Smiles that they so easily give away. Smiles that I know will come less often as they grow up. So, I take as much as I can get. And, I smile back. Because there is that power in their smile. A kind of spell that makes you smile back at them no matter how badly your day was going.

I feel delight in their unending questions- silly as they might be. I take strength from their laughter. But most of all, I feel hope blossoming in my heart with their presence. I suppose that's it. Hope. It is a rather difficult thing to keep in your grasps when faced with ugly truths of this world. Yet it overflows in them.

It's why they easily believe their parents would really buy them that unnecessary, not-in-the-budget toy. It's how they can look at the dark clouds and smile. And, when the rain does come, how they can laugh and dance in the rain. Because they know that the sun would show up tomorrow, if not later that day. It's hope. Or maybe they just believe that a rainbow would appear and they're eager at the thought of finding the pot of gold.

I feel old, and I'm certain many of the people who know me would say that I look the part, too. But, I know that I am young in years and have more to see, to experience, to live. I am nowhere near experienced enough or independent enough to make claims about the hardships of life yet I keep feeling chains constraining me, dragging me down.

So, yes. I am slightly jealous of children. Of their quick smiles. Of their hearty laughter. Of their innocence. Of their freedom. Of their hope.

SheForHe

The UN has recently launched a HeForShe campaign for gender equality. Now, this might be the right time to admit that I only know this because of the inspiring and truly eye-opening speech by Emma Watson.

So, yes, I watched it because I'm a fan of Emma Watson. But, I'm now writing about it because her words have reminded me of a reality that I have, for some reason, forgotten. Her words stabbed at my heart and I couldn't help but feel guilty.

You see, she spoke of how this fight for gender equality was one that could only be won when both sides came together. This was her formal invitation to all the men to take arms and stand by women. And, this was a revelation that, I must admit, has eluded me for so long. In talks of feminism and gender equality, so often have we made enemies of men- antagonizing them when, I now realize, they are not at fault. Not entirely, at least.

Because more than this revelation is the shocking realization that it truly is partly women's fault that gender discrimination continues to plague us. Is it not women who associate dominance with males? Is it not women who expect men to pick up the tab for every dinner date? Is it not women who require men to pull up their chairs, to open their doors for the sole reason that they are females?

By doing all these, is it not also women who create their own image of frailty? It is through this that we put men on the pedestal of power. And, there the image of man is formed. Man who is strong, unyielding and in control. Man who does not cry for he does not feel pain. Man who does not fear anything. Man who provides for woman. Because what else could a dainty woman be than a damsel in distress always in need of a knight in shining armor?

Yes, the world has placed women in a disadvantaged position. And, women have, for generations been fighting against this. Yet we forget that in the process, the world has also placed men in a cage. It has provided a tight, restricting image of what man is and what he is not. Any slight deviation makes Perhaps it is time that women stop simply fighting for themselves. She for she has been tried and it hadn't worked perhaps because it has resulted in a struggle against an opposing gender that has its own reasons for keeping their place in power.

He for she is certainly a step in the right direction. For how else could there be gender equality without the support of both genders? But, shouldn't women also fight for men? For their right to be free of the constraints that have also been thrown at them by the world? After all, we may carry different burdens, but they weigh us down just the same.

Fear

What is your greatest fear? What are you most afraid of?

There are a lot to be frightened of in this world. Snakes. Spiders. Cockroaches. Ghosts. Killers. Death. Getting hurt. Falling. Heights. Failing. Stumbling. A lot. If one was to interview every single person on earth, I'm almost certain the list would include everything on earth. Because people are good at finding reasons to be scared of something. Of everything. People are good at finding excuses for limiting themselves.

And, that's what I'm scared of the most. That my fear in something insignificant would limit me. My greatest fear is fear, itself. Because fear, left unchecked, is crippling. Fear is what keeps you in your comfort zone. It boxes you in. It stops you from accomplishing things. It keeps you from being great!

It allows you to see your dreams come within reach but keeps you from actually getting it. Soon, it isn't only fear bearing down on you but regret, as well. Regret for not having courage. Hatred, directed at yourself, for not having been able to do anything. Hopelessness because you see no light at the end of the tunnel. In a bit, you'll be drowning in sorrow. And, all these is because of fear - fear in something you'll come to realize is insignificant.

That's just the way fear works. But, just who gave fear all this power? The answer is plain and simple. You.

Fear isn't actually bad. It's necessary. It reminds us that we're not untouched by death. It allows us to remember that we can get hurt. That we aren't invincible.

But, the moment we allow fear to enter our hearts, we allow it control over our lives. Because fear is not one to smile and mingle. It seizes the heart and all in it. It drains our courage, shoots down our ambition, beats our hope senseless, and tramples on our self confidence.

So, yes, fear is my greatest fear. But with this admission, I look fear in the eyes and laugh at it. Because I refuse to give it even a nanometer's space in my heart. I refuse to be brought down by my own doubts and hesitation. After all, fear is nothing without our own second thoughts and uncertainties.

Keep your fears close. Let it fuel you at your lowest. Let it remind you that you are human. But keep it far enough that it doesn't have access to your heart. Because there is greatness in each and every one of us. A greatness that is chained down and restrained by fear and doubt. A greatness that deserves to be seen.

We can all be great. We just need to stop our fears from hindering us.

Handicapped

What's the difference between a beggar and a mutilated beggar? Between a painter and a blind painter?

The former is physically fit while the latter is not. And, that changes everything.

Because, when you see the two beggars sitting side by side on the sidewalk, you would be more inclined to give alms to the mutilated beggar. And, when you see the work of the two painters, you would be more in awe of the blind artist than the "normal" painter, regardless of actual skill and talent.

Our society is one which judges with double standards. It is unacceptable for a man to be so stricken by poverty that he'd need to beg, yet it is only natural for a deaf man to do so. Because, really, it's simply unthinkable for a man not to be able to find a job in our current economy. Please note my sarcasm here.

Of course, I'm not saying that it's okay to beg. I'm actually a firm believer that everyone has been given what they need to succeed in life. They just need to want it enough and work hard for it. But, the point remains that there are differing standards between "normal" people and the physically disadvantaged ones.

A painter and a blind painter. While there remain to be objective critics, pit them against each other and the majority would say that the blind artist is better. Because, no skill or talent of the physically fit can compare to that of a man who had to overcome his disability in order to do what he does.

Do you see? The difference between ordinary people and the handicapped?

It's unfair!

People who cannot see, who cannot hear, talk, walk, or those who are missing limbs. They are labeled as handicapped. Disabled. Disadvantaged. And, because of these labels, they are given leniency in everything. But, really, doesn't that make us- the fit people- handicapped, too?

We need to reach greater heights to make something out of ourselves. Mistakes are unforgivable. Reaching bottom is disgraceful. We are judged by an entirely different scale. In doing so, are we not handicapped, too? Weighed down by harsher judgments? Crushed by greater expectations? Undervalued? Underappreciated? And, to a point, unrecognized?

Living Double Lives

Humans are naturally greedy people. We want for many things in life - shoes, clothes, money, and properties. We each have many dreams and aspirations, hopes and wishes. We long for a variety of things in life so different that we ultimately want many versions of our selves.

And, that's what we do. Whether we realize this or not, we each live double lives. For some, they even juggle around three, four or five lives.

I am a female (certainly not a girl but too brutish to be a lady and too immature to be a woman) of varied interests. And, I live five separate lives.

I am a Mathematician and Scientist. One who lives with an inquisitive mind and an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. I breathe math and science.

I am an Artist. I draw. I doodle. I sketch. I paint. I procrastinate.

I am a Daughter. The youngest of three but still carry the same amount of responsibility and loyalty toward a highly dysfunctional family.

I am a Friend. That one person you can expect to drop everything just so she can be by your side in your time of need. That person whom you can rely on as the voice of reason. That person who'll stand by you, regardless of which side you're on.

Living multiple lives leave you with way too many things to do. But, life is all about knowing your priorities. And, while this may not make sense to others- certainly not to my family, I push aside everything and pick up my pen and paper.

Today, I choose to be a Writer.