Dream on.

When I was younger, I often play the jobs of a cashier, a teacher, an office worker and even a bus conductor. I loved papers then. I also had a small blackboard wherein I would draw different faces. Mommy would bring me home scratch papers tied with a fastener to be my drawing book. Daddy would give me onion skins and carbon papers and from there, I would figure out how the ink travels from one point to another.  I would then sketch celebrities- who would eventually look like someone not who I intended to. I would make hills, clouds and girls clad in different outfits with my pen.  I guess I got a lot of practice there.

When I was in highschool, I would rather doodle than listen during lectures. I would try to use my notebook and pen to copy the person writing on the blackboard. I would at times draw for group presentations. I also played volleyball. I enjoyed what I thought was enjoyable at that time. I never actually wanted the highest grades. I never wanted to be Ms. Popular. I just wanted to finish my school without embarrassing my parents with low or failed grades. Oh, I also wanted to make drawings and be an Interior Designer, at certain times. But heck, I just wanted to get a degree in UP.  Fortunately, those were granted, except the Interior Designer part.

When I was in college, I felt the same. I went to school just to finish school. I joined organizations to expand my network.  I loved and lost love. I struggled to get the life I wanted to have. I thought life would be easy after because of the notion instilled on me that “I am-goddamn-from-UP". But then, life, even then is a constant negotiation.

Now that I am working, I see people from schools-I-don’t-even-know-exist count money until the figures have turned undefined. I see people running their own business like a piece of an ampalaya cake- fulfilling but bitter it is. I see and try to listen to them and suddenly get to realize that my mind is staring and is at the same time salivating. Then, I get back to my own self.

Now that I am an almost molded output, I frown at myself. During my own time, I look back and blame myself. I never actually got to dream big. I never have actually drawn what I wanted to be when I reach years of existence.  And I never pushed myself to the wall until I discovered that it was just a curtain I have to cross. I opted being on the safer zone. Yes, I do not deprive myself anymore. Yes, I can afford more now. But life has this way of shaking when all things are left constant leaving the future uncertain.

I am lost now. Maybe life is shaking on me at the moment. Maybe I am at the point where the corners of the fold do not meet—yet. I will get there, soon, I know. I just have to be a child again and dream, start and walk from there on. Even if it means drawing basics again.