The World According to Cara

Realization: I am incapable of being angry. Well, technically not, but I do, more often than not, find myself unable to express such emotion to other people. I'd cry, I'd even throw tantrums but being angry... that's something I have almost never shown, especially on the outside.

I have this person right now whom I am absolutely furious at. I detest that he had to come along and ruin our friendship, change me to my worst, and bring me to abort principles of which I have lived with for eighteen years.

I am absolutely angry... But if he asks, I'll smile and tell him otherwise.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

I tried my best to ignore them but I couldn't. The noise just grew louder and louder. I tossed and turned under the covers and even pressed on my earphones a bit tighter so as to block the world around me. No such luck. It started with one, probably Scooby. He was obviously frantic over something, or I fear, someone. It wasn't long before the rest of the dogs joined in.
I looked at my cellphone for the time-- 2.03am. I couldn't ignore the high improbability that dogs were to be barking at such an hour.
Earphones pressed a bit tighter.
Dogs still continued barking.
By that time, my heart beat were growing more and more faster as the noise continued. Despite my fear, I mustered enough courage to get up, open the lights and peak through the window. I scanned through the walls of our vicinity-- plants, closed lights, dogs in their cages, and... Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw. Immediately, it was as though all my blood traveled up to my head and I was all of a sudden, very dizzy. There by our driveway, I saw a man in a mustard yellow top running towards the garden. I felt paralyzed for a few seconds. I've always been paranoid over intruders but it was the first time that I've actually seen one, someone so close, to make matters worse.
With my head still spinning, I gathered myself together and made my way out the room. I needed my brother. And then I stopped when I realized that I was barefooted. Grace before anything else, I always say and at that moment, quite glad that I still had a bit of myself despite the circumstances. As I was putting on my black slippers, a thought of bringing a possible defense material crossed my mind as well. No, I wasted enough time. I dashed out the door and quickly ran to my brother's room. I paused and composed myself.
"Kris?" I said calmly, perfectly concealing that I was all frantic inside.
No reply.
"Kris!" I opened the door to his room.
He wasn't there.
All of a sudden, I felt doomed and completely alone. I've never been "home alone" during such incidents before. When these things used to happen before, my brother would be the first to keep us in the know.
"Lock your room", he'd say, "I heard something suspicious".
Well, I'm not only hearing, but also seeing something suspicious now. Where is he to tell me what to do?
I ran towards the stairs to head to the first storey in hopes that I'd find him in the library, where I last saw him. And then I paused. Several gory possibilities of what might happen to me involuntary entered my mind. After all, this mustard man was just a few meters away from our door entrance. I couldn't risk it.
"Kris?" I shouted from the stairs, again, with much calmness in my voice.
No answer.
"KRIS?!" This time a little louder.
None.
That was it. I was alone... alone with the intruder in my house.
"Kris" I found my voice finally cracking in near tears.
He wasn't there. Knowing that this was the case made me even more afraid; he probably left again and forgot to lock the doors. What's stopping the intruder from entering the house now? I might as well greet him with a cup of tea let him in myself.
By then, I resolved to my last resort. I ran back to the parents' room, where I was originally staying at before this event, and I started locking the doors. I locked the main door, the door heading to my sister's room and I made my way to lock the one that leads to the gym. I couldn't. The bolt was too firmly stuck and I was too weak to maneuver it. Yes, despite the adrenaline rush. I guess it's not true what they say in movies, you get a ton stronger when adrenaline kicks in. I contemplated on hiding in my own room but decided against it. "No, the door there's a lot easier to break... and the air conditioner's not working".
I racked my mind for plan C, plan D, plan E. Nothing. Until I spotted my cellphone. I thought of calling my mother but what can she do about it, she's hundreds of miles away. I dialed for my brother instead.
He picked up, finally.
"Kris, where are you?", I asked trying to sound calm.
"Oh, we're heading to Eddie's place", he replied calmly too, without trying.
"Well, the dogs were barking like crazy and-- What time will you be home?"
"Oh yeah, that was us. We were on our way out that's why they were being such bitches. Don't worry, I locked the doors. Oh! Don't wait up for me".
...
Fuck you.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

They just gave me money and left.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

We are all searching for someone, that special person who will provide us what's missing in our lives. Someone who can offer companionship, or assistance, or security. And sometimes, if we search very hard, we can find someone who provides us with all three. Yes, we're all searching for someone, and if we can't find them,
we can only pray they find us.

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 

Now, I don't have a fancy degree in philosophy or whatever to formally prove that I even know what the term means so I shall simply quote the most unbiased definition I can find.

Materialism: A great or excessive regard for worldly concerns. (Armstrong, 1968)

In that case, I admit, and I'm not quite ashamed of it too, I am a materialist. I take fancy in clothes, shoes, gadgets and even the simplest of things such as pens and colored paper (don't ask). For instance, I can't imagine a week going by without acquiring at least one new item. It can be anything just as long as it's new and it's an item. Haha. That's me. Now, I wasn't always like this. There was a time when I looked very lowly at these "materialists" and found other avenues to explore rather than to indulge in such a state. Little did I know that years later, I'd be whom I dreaded too. This got me wondering, if I hated it so much, then why am I who I turned out to be now-- a shallow shoe-loving teenager.

I'd hate to get so personal on the very first post but I'm down to my nth sentence, there's no turning back now. So, who exactly was I before being this? I reckon being the baby of the family, the center of attention, the effortlessly smart one, the musical prodigy, and the sliiight overweight (just kidding, I was probably 50lbs. above normal weight). But suddenly, I felt every single one of those disappear. I got a new sister when I was nine. Needless to say, goodbye attention. Luckily, my dear grandma was there to prove that thought wrong-- I was still her "baby" no matter what... and then she died. Again, goodbye attention. Now, I found myself trying to excel in academics and piano-playing to hold on to what little recognition I could still get. It worked for a bit until I realized that none of them cared about these. To make matters worse, fast forward to college, I was bitch slapped with the realization that those two remaining "expertise" were long gone already. Who was I kidding? I'm no longer the consistent honor student that I used to be and my God, I couldn't even enter the school orchestra. What more wake-up call did I need?

Then I also, in the process, noticed that I was no longer the awkward twelve-year-old that I used to be. Clothes from racks could actually fit me already, I lost all my icky-yucky pimples, and every so often, I'd even get second glances. So why waste it right? I had nothing left. I lost all my assets. I needed a self-esteem boost. And so... I embraced the material world. Hm, I guess that makes me the living and breathing proof that Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is indeed true. Physiological needs go at the very bottom. Anyway, enough of that.

Nowadays, I find myself getting further sucked in this materialism but I don't think of it much as a choice. I feel like, this is the only option that remains and I should just take it. The way my life has turned out, it's like the only thing, no pun intended, that doesn't let me down. Everything else has. So, a great lot of you may say that materialism is bad? I say, it's what keeps me holding on.

Until the next post,

• 
• 
• 
• 
•