I grow up here. This is my territory. Everytime I come back here, I know that I belong here. I don't forget where I came from? I clearly remember everything. I was a street child sponsored by Government to finish my education and earned my degree and work in the government and then went to academe and now left it.
My life story is everybody story. It was documented in tv and then written in newspaper. So everybody knows it!
So everytime, I come back to Davao it is the story I heard all over again.
Actually, all I want is just to stay here, but there are many things that I cannot explained why living here is such a difficult thing.
Well, Christmas is really good if you are with your family. I am a very family oriented person. You can hurt me and do anything to me but spare my family. But, after everything that happens to me here. I cannot anymore find my own niche. My habitat was destroyed.
It makes me sick when people keeps on talking about a past love story when actually it happened way back in 2005. If I did not marry that person it is because I don't love him but everytime I joined reunion of social workers old rotten stories keeps coming back. It seems I am talking to stone-age people. Where their computer version is not really upgraded.
Now, after seven months in Manila and meeting some old acquaintance old controversy about my work and why I left the University. The answer is simple, I don't like it anymore.
IF I DO NOT LIKE IT! I LEAVE IT! AND FIND MY OWN PEACE!
Now if people that I left behind were not happy, then they have to accept it because they are the reason why I left. I am not martyr. If I can find my way out, I really leave. This is me. I don't like drama. I hate it when someone step on my shoes and never even tell me sorry.
I want to stay happy and be productive. If in a certain place, I feel that the world is getting smaller then I look for a wider space. Where I can breath. Where people can accept my opinion and accept me for who I am. Where I can be alive. I mean really alive!
How I wish I can just stay here without people asking me some questions that I do not like to answer but it is difficult for me. I do not like to stay in a place where people knows nothing but talking about old, old, very old and antique stories about my past. Recalling about dead people in my memory box.
For me past is past and we can't do anything with it. I am also sick and tired that people in my past keeps on disturbing me. If they want to be my friends then they should stop talking about old stories. I hate it when I received text messages just reminding me who am I before?. I know where I came from and no one needs to remind me. Everytime, I see a street child, I know that I was once like them but not all street child is like me. Some street child can be street parents too. I was not the only person sent by government to school there are hundreds of us and if I made it is not only because of government but it is me.
Hey, its almost 2009 and I broke up with that person in 2005 and then I leave my work in 2008. These are old stories.
There are new ones that I am still revising my thesis and I am working hard for my dlsu studies (not so hard!, he,he,he, bugay-bugay pud) these are new ones. They are worth talking about than people in my past especially people who brought nothing to my consciousness but unhappy memories. I wonder why they keep coming back because when I left someone, my own policy is I don't care where they are now. I just wish they are happy for the choices they have made because I am certainly satisfied with where I am now. For me that is PAST.
I just wish that in the coming year, they will stop talking about me, because what happened in the last years were already written in my archives and now I am thinking to write new one's for new year.
Every year, I am thinking of new things to do new things to write! This is me.
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