I am waiting for my turn to walk that long, blue carpet. I experienced it once and it felt so damn great. And to enter last again, wow, I couldn’t be any prouder. Felt like I was in the top of the world, invincible, powerful. No one could dare touch me. Except perhaps for my mom, who’s standing beside me, trying to fix my hair and adjusting my oversized white toga.
And I did felt like on the top of the world. Already in my life, I gave two inspiring speeches, one edited by my Lola who thought I was my uncle’s replica (we do look alike though) and the other, I did with what I really felt which means bashing those who tried to put me down and never believed in me. I almost said “Die, you suckers!” instead of “Thank you for not always believing in me, thus, I proved you wrong.” Yeah, it feels so good whenever you’re on top, as if you can rule the world, as if your words are more authoritative than your comrades, as if everyone looks up to you and tell you that your parents must have been so proud to have you.
And that is exactly what I felt entering the streets of Diliman. Yeah, I can do this; I can do better than some of these people. I can even graduate with honors and well, get a great job, earn some then indulge on the marvels of the world. It’s easier said than done; so much easier said than done.
Last night, I had a fight with my parents. (Hate you Jack Black.) A major fight I wished never happened. But it happened. And I was made to hear what I’ve been avoiding for the two years. I was made to realize how messed up I am now, how my life turned into a black hole of negativity and failures. From gold, I turned into garbage, easily disposable, worthless and powerless. And I just cried and cried harder and cried until I can no longer grasp reality. I grabbed some blade and voila, marked my wrists. But I couldn’t do it really, I am such a failure. I should have been a dead man walking. Like those I see in silent, abandoned places.
And what hurts more is that I felt like my mom could have said more. That I haven’t heard enough from them, how disappointed they were in me, how they thought I could be great and instead became terrible, how frustrated they were in me that I used to be a sweet, fine boy who gave honor to our family, and how they would have wished they weren’t my parents. It hurts like hell to hear those words coming from their mouths.
Perhaps, they weren’t so proud of me after all. Aside from all those petty achievements I gave them, I am truly nothing to them, more so a baggage they could have gotten rid way before. I am and will be worthless without a diploma. And it will stay this way until I get that fucking college diploma.
I used to feel I am at the top of the world, looking over my surrogates, feeling significant and dominant. I used to be there until five years later, God gave me some barricades to hurdle. And it’s not easy to be at the trough of the wave. At the back of my mind, I somehow wished I could have died right after high school graduation when everything was perfect and wonderful. And God knows how I am suffering now. But that’s life when you’re not the first honor anymore.
P.S. To those who once told me they’ll be there for me when I need them, those who said they care for me and love me no matter what, I am in dire need of help and love and care. Pray for my soul and my enlightenment.