Peeping through the hole to the past, which I call the ‘pasthole,’ I figured I was indeed the great kid that never was. Something went wrong somewhere when I was growing up, that is. I saw how I dreamed and how capable I was in realizing those dreams without some sort of fear hampering my way. I was the great kid who can imagine or dream well and looked up to by those who couldn’t. I was intelligent, talented, hungry for fame, had the greatest aspirations and the potential to achieve éclat. I was the kid whom everybody thought of as one of those who had the right to act brilliant simply because I was. The brilliance of success was shining out of my face and it was too bright that those who can see squeezed their eyes in my presence. I never say I couldn’t do it, in fact, I always thought that all can be done with a strong belief that they will. People with great aims chose me to complete their goals with strong faith in my competence.
…But I was peeping through my ‘pasthole.’
And I was actually talking about the 5-year-old me. People used to say, “She’ll go a long, long way…” I believe they also meant I’ll be lost somewhere along the way.
In a quandary, I reckon that something went wrong somewhere when I was growing up. It’s not that I was totally unaware of the situations that went bad when I was but a child. It’s just that as a child I was quite unacquainted with them and almost believed that they were the norms. It was bad, I assure you, what disturbed my childhood, and better left undiscussed. But nevertheless, I grew stronger with the scars. No worries.
The destruction or should I say the distraction was unbearable to the point of wanting to give up on life. I even began to stammer in almost any occasion for the petty reason of lack of self-confidence. The burden of asking myself, “Whatever happened to that promising kid?” almost crushed my heart. It felt as though every time I tried to sing or voice out on top of my lungs and set free some humble ideas, the heavens just tumble down upon me and bury me alive to the ground. The strings of self-esteem and confidence, they just slip through my palms like a catfish. As I see it, there came a point in my life when I decided to just lie low and become too complacent that I’m doing just fine… when I’m not. More like a disease consuming my body, a permanent one for that matter. Something incurable.
Now, I’m way more than just 5 years old and needed to show the world that I am competent. But how? Did I need a shrink? Is this my destiny? Had I gone through the right path, will life be crueler to me than it already is? Who has kept the answer? I don’t think anybody will be interested. Which means I’ll leave myself wondering and be trapped forever by might-have-beens.
Whatever!
So I feel like an ignited bomb ready to explode. But sadly, I don’t think I’ll ever explode. Or should I say, I was never meant to explode and be finally recognized. The question is will I ever be able to give justice to my potentials—trying so hard to cut loose? Maybe.
I want to believe so.
Is this the same as the people’s cry, “Life is so unfair!”?
I suppose so.
Through the ‘pasthole’ I ardently peeped. I almost wanted to correct the wrong and redesign the path. But destiny is quite permanent isn’t it? A one-way path and no turning back. I guess I’ll have to live with it forever and convince myself that life, no matter how unfair, is lovely and beautiful.
So I decided. Rather, let me cherish every moment of my life and the cast of people in it. I’ll be more patient with an unachieved goal that painfully looked real before my eyes. More like a shattered dream.
But one thing will absolutely remain. I will never stop dreaming big nonetheless. That way, my ‘pasthole’ might be reengineered on its own. Who knows?
I guess that’ll do.
