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Difficult...
Change is never an easy thing to manage.
It's always a dramatic thing, change. People always have an adverse reaction to it, whether it's a good kind of a change or not, people will always be adverse to it.
Then again, the only thing constant in this world is change - and death. Death is such a morbid topic reserved for another post, for now, it's all about change.
***
I've always welcomed change. It was something to look forward to, something that can break the monotony of my existence or just something to beat the mundane. One change I've been waiting for since I hit adolescence has not come yet. Goddamn...These boobs do take a while to fill in! (3 kids later, still no boobs...)
Some changes I didn't understand: Why did my dad have to leave? Why do I have to stop school? Why do we have to move? Why do I have to leave my friends? Why did he break my heart? You ponder upon these things and later on, learn how to roll with the punches. Then you go about your merry life, thinking that changes made us better (hopefully)
Then there are some changes that you know are inevitable but you hope against hope that they never happen. You try to brace yourself, try to prepare yourself for the onslaught and when it arrives, you still get caught off-guard, unawares even. We then start blaming other people. We begin to label these changes as transgressions. We act like a spoiled brat that never got the diamond encrusted barbie doll on display. We disappoint other people and make them think and say "I used to think she/he was better than that."
***
I, my friend, have been that person. I've let everyone down. I've disappointed a whole lot of people. I've made them think I'm not the person they think I am. I became the person they wish I was not. I've become an asshole of the grandest kind. These things happen, I'd like to think that I've evolved. I've raised the bar of irritation and annoyance - I've turned it into an art. I've become a gourmet bitch.
Getting older seems to be a task that's difficult for most people to overcome, me included. As I age, I get more difficult, more snotty, more annoying. I can see myself 40 years from now: I'm sitting on a rocking chair in my front yard, a lit cigarette in one hand and a BB gun on another, muttering to myself and screaming at the kids "Geroff my property!!". I think I'll be one of those crazy women that the kids will make up stories about.
Change. It's overrated.
It's always a dramatic thing, change. People always have an adverse reaction to it, whether it's a good kind of a change or not, people will always be adverse to it.
Then again, the only thing constant in this world is change - and death. Death is such a morbid topic reserved for another post, for now, it's all about change.
***
I've always welcomed change. It was something to look forward to, something that can break the monotony of my existence or just something to beat the mundane. One change I've been waiting for since I hit adolescence has not come yet. Goddamn...These boobs do take a while to fill in! (3 kids later, still no boobs...)
Some changes I didn't understand: Why did my dad have to leave? Why do I have to stop school? Why do we have to move? Why do I have to leave my friends? Why did he break my heart? You ponder upon these things and later on, learn how to roll with the punches. Then you go about your merry life, thinking that changes made us better (hopefully)
Then there are some changes that you know are inevitable but you hope against hope that they never happen. You try to brace yourself, try to prepare yourself for the onslaught and when it arrives, you still get caught off-guard, unawares even. We then start blaming other people. We begin to label these changes as transgressions. We act like a spoiled brat that never got the diamond encrusted barbie doll on display. We disappoint other people and make them think and say "I used to think she/he was better than that."
***
I, my friend, have been that person. I've let everyone down. I've disappointed a whole lot of people. I've made them think I'm not the person they think I am. I became the person they wish I was not. I've become an asshole of the grandest kind. These things happen, I'd like to think that I've evolved. I've raised the bar of irritation and annoyance - I've turned it into an art. I've become a gourmet bitch.
Getting older seems to be a task that's difficult for most people to overcome, me included. As I age, I get more difficult, more snotty, more annoying. I can see myself 40 years from now: I'm sitting on a rocking chair in my front yard, a lit cigarette in one hand and a BB gun on another, muttering to myself and screaming at the kids "Geroff my property!!". I think I'll be one of those crazy women that the kids will make up stories about.
Change. It's overrated.
