Ramblings On My Days Off
I have a very strong sense of ownership. Perhaps because we have so little things when I was growing up that I have this possessiveness in me. I’m not really selfish of my things, if you want to borrow them, go ahead, as long as you asked permission, you return it on time and you will return it the same condition as you borrowed it. I dislike messy borrower. And I dislike those people who get my stuff without even asking permission.
Recently our old neighbor moved away, so we got a new neighbor. They have so many little children and the kids play in front of the apartment; it’s starting to unnerve me. Then there’s the matter of clothes line. They are claiming MY clothes line. I hate it. I don’t want to hate anyone right now because I don’t really hate anyone anymore. Come to think of it, if I hated them then I have a problem on them but they do not have any problem with me. So, I’ll stop this nonsense. I just thought I will feel better if I write my thoughts down.
When we are hurt, we want to take revenge, we want to hurt those who hurt us with the same amount of pain we endured, or even more.
But come to think of it, will vindication change anything? Will it change the fact that we were hurt? That we shed tears? Can we go back to the way things were?
The answer is No.
No matter what we do, we cannot undo the damage, we can only heal, and be better persons than we used to be.
Picture this:
A person is sick. Very very sick, to the point of dying. He has been in and out of hospital for a long time and he’s wondering why. But no one will say anything because everyone is afraid of his reaction. How do you say to someone that he’s dying? So, he goes to the hospital, know nothing of his prognosis and one day, he will sleep and won’t wake up anymore.
If you were the sick person, what would you do? Would you want to know the truth or forever ignore the nagging feeling that something is wrong?
Me thinks:
I guess it’s better not knowing. We all die anyway. If someone told me I’d day tomorrow, I’d cram up, think of the things that I still want to do and regret all the bad decisions I’ve made. Then tomorrow, I’ll die, worried and unpeaceful.
What is a brat?
According to the Encarta Dictionaries:
Brat: Demanding and selfish person; somebody, especially a child, who is regarded tiresomely selfish and selfish in a childish way.
My brother embodies that definition, conceptually and operatively. I don’t know why but he’s been like that since I can remember. If he can’t get his way, he throws tantrums and mind you, he’s a very grown man. He’s already 25 years old. I want to confront him about his behavior but he’s acting like a jerk. Well, I mentioned jerk, so he’s also a jerk. Yesterday, my mother texted me and told me some things that Darrel told her. I know my Mom can have her theatrics but I never bluntly said hurtful words. I never made her cry. My brother can be really mean and I know mother created some problems for him but in my opinion, the problem did not warrant verbal attacks from him. I told him about it last night and he just brushed me off and told me that mother deserves those hurtful words. I realized that I wasn’t as selfish as I thought I was. My brother does really make me look like the better person. He’s a very mean-spirited boy. I think no matter what, he shouldn’t have hurt mother in such a way that spells disrespect.
“I had to learn to love before I could realize how I am loved”
—Soichiro Arima (Kare Kano)