The Tale of the Youngest
I am the youngest and, yes, there will be no turning back. EVER.
Others may see it as exciting as it can be, and I never refute that fact. I have all the perks of being the youngest. I enjoy being the center of attention. My childhood days can be spelled as S-P-O-I-L-E-D. I mean, to the highest and extreme level. Everything seems normal to me. I want something and I get it thereafter. That was my life's equation.
Well, it used to be at least.
Being the youngest, I get extra cookies than my siblings. I got to choose which doll I want. I didn't have to belabor myself doing household chores. I stamp of my feet and I can have five pesos to spend i the sari-sari store. New bag every school year, nice pencil cases, extra allowances, able to join school campings, bring friends over, not have so good grades without being nagged, and the list just goes on and on.
I've been always cradled. I have this towering self-confidence that I can and able to do everything I want. I don't know if it's really what I can do or they just said I can do it. I hardly listen to other people. I have given birth to a brat. I've learned to become so sarcastic and strong. I can be so manipulative and not care of what others may think or feel.
I've become so insensitive. Frank is what they call me. I'm the one who speaks my mind without much thinking of the repercussions of every spoken word that will come out of my mind. Sometimes I feel numb because I know I lack emotions. I've set up my standards so high that I easily get disappointed when people or things don't come at par with it. I hate senseless people who talk about senseless things. I hang them on the phone. They are a huge waste of time.
I grew up to be a strong woman. Sometimes I pride myself for being such a feminist. A weak man pisses me off big time. Yet a strong man scars my egoistic side and challenges my strong persona at the same time, therefore also pissing me off at the end. I don't want to be beaten by a strong man but I think it would be a breath of fresh air. Someone who dares to be at par with me is SOMEONE to reckon with.
But there were times I get tired being the youngest. Sometimes I don't want to be so strong. I don't want to be so opinionated. I don't want to be so bossy and domineering. I don't want to be so confident and competitive. I just want to be normal.
At times I just want to be the listener. Or I just want to be quiet at all without anyone telling me what to do or insinuating what they want and expect me to do. I want to feel being bossed around. I want to be cared for not because I am the youngest but because I am down and weak and unable. I want to talk about silly things and be silly. I want to experience being corny and cheesy.
The tale of the youngest started with a once upon a time. But there wasn't an evil witch or a glass shoes or whatever. The story isn't a love story either. There wasn't a prince coming atop a white horse. It's about a young girl who got drown with the perks of being the youngest; wanting to break free, hoping to be normal, trying to be normal.
Others may see it as exciting as it can be, and I never refute that fact. I have all the perks of being the youngest. I enjoy being the center of attention. My childhood days can be spelled as S-P-O-I-L-E-D. I mean, to the highest and extreme level. Everything seems normal to me. I want something and I get it thereafter. That was my life's equation.
Well, it used to be at least.
Being the youngest, I get extra cookies than my siblings. I got to choose which doll I want. I didn't have to belabor myself doing household chores. I stamp of my feet and I can have five pesos to spend i the sari-sari store. New bag every school year, nice pencil cases, extra allowances, able to join school campings, bring friends over, not have so good grades without being nagged, and the list just goes on and on.
I've been always cradled. I have this towering self-confidence that I can and able to do everything I want. I don't know if it's really what I can do or they just said I can do it. I hardly listen to other people. I have given birth to a brat. I've learned to become so sarcastic and strong. I can be so manipulative and not care of what others may think or feel.
I've become so insensitive. Frank is what they call me. I'm the one who speaks my mind without much thinking of the repercussions of every spoken word that will come out of my mind. Sometimes I feel numb because I know I lack emotions. I've set up my standards so high that I easily get disappointed when people or things don't come at par with it. I hate senseless people who talk about senseless things. I hang them on the phone. They are a huge waste of time.
I grew up to be a strong woman. Sometimes I pride myself for being such a feminist. A weak man pisses me off big time. Yet a strong man scars my egoistic side and challenges my strong persona at the same time, therefore also pissing me off at the end. I don't want to be beaten by a strong man but I think it would be a breath of fresh air. Someone who dares to be at par with me is SOMEONE to reckon with.
But there were times I get tired being the youngest. Sometimes I don't want to be so strong. I don't want to be so opinionated. I don't want to be so bossy and domineering. I don't want to be so confident and competitive. I just want to be normal.
At times I just want to be the listener. Or I just want to be quiet at all without anyone telling me what to do or insinuating what they want and expect me to do. I want to feel being bossed around. I want to be cared for not because I am the youngest but because I am down and weak and unable. I want to talk about silly things and be silly. I want to experience being corny and cheesy.
The tale of the youngest started with a once upon a time. But there wasn't an evil witch or a glass shoes or whatever. The story isn't a love story either. There wasn't a prince coming atop a white horse. It's about a young girl who got drown with the perks of being the youngest; wanting to break free, hoping to be normal, trying to be normal.
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