9月 05, 2011

I'm no longer a wild child or even a teenager.


I don’t know what will become of me. I’m no longer a wild child or even a teenager. I pick up the phone only to find my world is disconnected. I don’t have strings attached to my body. I can never fly like Peter Pan. I need a change of scenery when I see singing birds being framed on neon walls. I wear my flower dress till the flowers wither away. I refuse to forget the girl I once was; she used to play in the sandbox with the other boys. I once told my friends we could paint our walls pink and sing love songs in the dark; pretend our dear princes got stuck in traffic just so we’ll have something to believe in. Well, I did end up finding my prince. My prince took me to a beautiful island, and I never want to go back.

Sometimes I imagine my childhood with a mother figure. I didn’t realize how much it bothered me till I became an adult. I would see mothers interact with their children and I would only feel empty inside. I remember I found a once forgotten photo of my mother in the cellar when I was only a little girl; I thought she was beautiful. My mother had dark hair, dark eyes, with dark skin. I honestly don’t know much about her. My mom was adopted when she was only a child by a couple with English heritage. I had no way of tracing back her roots ’cause my mom’s name was changed, so I did an expensive DNA test. I’ve realized that she has no English heritage whatsoever. Yes, my mom had dark hair, dark eyes, with dark skin; she was a Latina woman.

I waste my youth on sour apple lollipops and unfinished dreams. I never finish anything. There are times when I do miss feeling hollow; as if I’m not made of anything at all. I need a change of scenery when I see snow angels being framed on neon walls. I’ll dance to any song that puts reality into a coma.I guess it’s always good to feel something than to not feel anything at all.

Weight to me, is like those boxes that get smaller and smaller. I don’t know why I bother to see what’s inside the last box when the end results tend to remain the same. My friends would hold their breath till their world turns blue. It’s pure comedy when we think it’ll be a certain way and it goes entirely a different direction. We all went our separate ways, of course. I turned out just fine. I still draw like a kid. I capture snapshots through my own eyes; carrying my camera like a back pack. My prince is basically my best friend. We talk of politics, goals, cuisine, and culture. I hope I will go back to college one of these days. I really want to continue my education. My future is up in the clouds and I don’t have a ladder to climb up. I feel like every time I reach for the sky, my arms only get smaller; I can only reach for the gutter with a shovel.

Life is clearly what you make of it. I still wish on a shooting star, but I no longer just dream.