First off, I tagged YOU because one, we had recently talked about this, I just have some further thoughts about it, and I’d like to know what you think about it and two, I think you won’t mind reading through my random thoughts (please? :-)).
Growing up has suddenly not become my thing since I reached 18. I found myself being obsessed with my childhood pleasures; toys, cartoons and children’s books. Maybe because I have read and reread and reread The Little Prince over and over again. (I haven’t gone back to my Peter Pan reading yet because of that). Maybe because I have over saturated my self from watching The Sound of Music almost 10 times. (I think I said 8). But nevertheless, I have not lost track of my age, nor what I should be doing and thinking about right now—career, life, future.
I have dreamt of impossible things, of dreams so much larger than life. Some of them, I find hard to abandon even if there’s no point holding on to them. But like what I have learned recently, dreaming big is the only way to dream. I used to dream of becoming an architect, then a pilot, then an investigative journalist (not giving up on my pilot dream still, though). And everybody wonders why I'm here right now (where am I again?).
I have given up on being an architect at 6th grade, thinking that the sky is better than skyscrapers. Anyway, I’m just average on drafting and drawing. Lack of practice dulls the skill. By 6th grade, I wanted to be a pilot, after reading something about a girl finding hard to fit in the society because she was so mediocre. And yes, pompous maybe to say this, but I am not so much a fan of mediocrity. But I have already learned to appreciate it. Right now, I am still thinking of ways to fly a plane. Someday, somehow, I would not just be a passenger of an aircraft. Even if my sleep disorder doesn’t help. Even if my vision is impaired. I’ll get there. At least, I will try. Learning to love journalism and falling in love with investigative journalism (IJ) made me feel that somehow I found my place on earth. And so I tried my best—and I still am trying my best—to get to the Parthenon of IJ. Even if it means sacrificing some ‘greater’ opportunities. And not to sound too patriotic about it, let’s just say I have not yet lost the idealism J school taught me.
Then I became obsessed with thoughts of becoming a scientist—a physicist or an astrophysicist--- all because I find it so saddening that some of those who study the sciences hate it. C’mon, if I can all of these things (flying planes, writing investigative reports and drowning myself in the laboratories because of forces and motion) at the same time, I would. But I am bound to make choices, given only one life, some amount of years, cash and mental and physical capacity to fulfill something short of my idea of greatness.
Law then became a tempting alternative from all of those gargantuan dreams. But after my first try, I thought, either I’m not prepared for it yet or it’s just not really how I roll. The stiffness of corporate attire and legalese scares me as if all my creativity and imagination will be sucked by monsters called SCRA, The Penal Code, The Philippine Constitution of 1987 and all of them demons. Seeing the terms “promulgation”, “whereof”, “People of the Philippines Vs. So-and-so” makes me swallow more saliva more than I should. Maybe someday, I’ll get back on the poetry of legislation. I do not need to hurry, at least not now.
While the child in me pops in once in a while, during my solitary trips to wherever, or my journey inside books, photos and movie clips, or, when I’m with friends, I have tried my best to plan the future, like any grown-up should and to grasp and approach that concept the way adults do; thinking of the coulds, buts, maybes, shoulds, ifs and trying to determine how to manage if everything else fails. And I wish that everything will go as planned and if it’s not the case, I can only pray for something better.
Some people laugh at my tremendous change-of-heart incidents. Yes, sometimes they can get really immature, too daredevil, and eye-popping unimaginable. But I’d like to consider myself as a work in progress. I do not wish to justify any mistake I had in the past. I’m just saying, I was trying to put on my thinking cap that time. And I had a hard time making it fit my head.
If growing up means forgetting to dream big, then I don’t want to grow up anymore. At 21, I still enjoy making wishes on shooting stars.
If it’s insane to be random and inconsistent, I don’t mind. It's better to be changing your thoughts than having no thought about anything at all, right? Maybe I am still trying to know myself better. But I think I have mastered to gather enough determination to achieve something I want. And to a certain degree, I have already re-learned how to pray.
At 21, I still get surprised by my own decisions and ideas. Is that such a bad thing? (Sorry, this has become too self-indulgent) Tweet
Growing up has suddenly not become my thing since I reached 18. I found myself being obsessed with my childhood pleasures; toys, cartoons and children’s books. Maybe because I have read and reread and reread The Little Prince over and over again. (I haven’t gone back to my Peter Pan reading yet because of that). Maybe because I have over saturated my self from watching The Sound of Music almost 10 times. (I think I said 8). But nevertheless, I have not lost track of my age, nor what I should be doing and thinking about right now—career, life, future.
I have dreamt of impossible things, of dreams so much larger than life. Some of them, I find hard to abandon even if there’s no point holding on to them. But like what I have learned recently, dreaming big is the only way to dream. I used to dream of becoming an architect, then a pilot, then an investigative journalist (not giving up on my pilot dream still, though). And everybody wonders why I'm here right now (where am I again?).
I have given up on being an architect at 6th grade, thinking that the sky is better than skyscrapers. Anyway, I’m just average on drafting and drawing. Lack of practice dulls the skill. By 6th grade, I wanted to be a pilot, after reading something about a girl finding hard to fit in the society because she was so mediocre. And yes, pompous maybe to say this, but I am not so much a fan of mediocrity. But I have already learned to appreciate it. Right now, I am still thinking of ways to fly a plane. Someday, somehow, I would not just be a passenger of an aircraft. Even if my sleep disorder doesn’t help. Even if my vision is impaired. I’ll get there. At least, I will try. Learning to love journalism and falling in love with investigative journalism (IJ) made me feel that somehow I found my place on earth. And so I tried my best—and I still am trying my best—to get to the Parthenon of IJ. Even if it means sacrificing some ‘greater’ opportunities. And not to sound too patriotic about it, let’s just say I have not yet lost the idealism J school taught me.
Then I became obsessed with thoughts of becoming a scientist—a physicist or an astrophysicist--- all because I find it so saddening that some of those who study the sciences hate it. C’mon, if I can all of these things (flying planes, writing investigative reports and drowning myself in the laboratories because of forces and motion) at the same time, I would. But I am bound to make choices, given only one life, some amount of years, cash and mental and physical capacity to fulfill something short of my idea of greatness.
Law then became a tempting alternative from all of those gargantuan dreams. But after my first try, I thought, either I’m not prepared for it yet or it’s just not really how I roll. The stiffness of corporate attire and legalese scares me as if all my creativity and imagination will be sucked by monsters called SCRA, The Penal Code, The Philippine Constitution of 1987 and all of them demons. Seeing the terms “promulgation”, “whereof”, “People of the Philippines Vs. So-and-so” makes me swallow more saliva more than I should. Maybe someday, I’ll get back on the poetry of legislation. I do not need to hurry, at least not now.
While the child in me pops in once in a while, during my solitary trips to wherever, or my journey inside books, photos and movie clips, or, when I’m with friends, I have tried my best to plan the future, like any grown-up should and to grasp and approach that concept the way adults do; thinking of the coulds, buts, maybes, shoulds, ifs and trying to determine how to manage if everything else fails. And I wish that everything will go as planned and if it’s not the case, I can only pray for something better.
Some people laugh at my tremendous change-of-heart incidents. Yes, sometimes they can get really immature, too daredevil, and eye-popping unimaginable. But I’d like to consider myself as a work in progress. I do not wish to justify any mistake I had in the past. I’m just saying, I was trying to put on my thinking cap that time. And I had a hard time making it fit my head.
If growing up means forgetting to dream big, then I don’t want to grow up anymore. At 21, I still enjoy making wishes on shooting stars.
If it’s insane to be random and inconsistent, I don’t mind. It's better to be changing your thoughts than having no thought about anything at all, right? Maybe I am still trying to know myself better. But I think I have mastered to gather enough determination to achieve something I want. And to a certain degree, I have already re-learned how to pray.
At 21, I still get surprised by my own decisions and ideas. Is that such a bad thing? (Sorry, this has become too self-indulgent) Tweet
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