Some three months ago, I swear I could actually write things down. Now, I can’t seem to finish anything at all. I carried with me my trusty yellow pages because I had the highest hopes that I could let out some things along the way. Three months later, all it had in it are still the poem my lover wrote me, and the word “malaya” in baybayin that I hope will be written on my skin soon enough.
It’s funny how things change so fast. Uhmmm, like some three months ago, I graduated from university and had all these crazy thoughts of conquering the world and finally be able to do what I love the most – listening to and telling people’s stories.
I know “hate” seems to be too strong for a word, but I can’t find any other way to describe how I feel towards my situation right now. I would often think to myself that things would have been way better if I transferred to another country back when I was in high school, or back when I was just about to start in college. At large, I would wish that all the countries in the world would just be economically stable by themselves that their citizens wouldn’t even mind transferring elsewhere to look for greener pastures.
I’m missing home so bad right now. And I swear, I am someone who has grown up to be very optimistic with every possibility that may happen along my way but right now, I feel kinda lost. If I were home, I could be at some far flung community and writing down their struggles. I could be joining the Lakbayan. Or simply, I could be in the comfort of my friends, my lover, my family.
Things are hard in here and the colder weather isn’t helping at all. I’m stuck at a job helping kids with their homework, playing with them, and listening to their stories. I actually like working here. But I still find it sad, like why am I even settling at a point like this? My mom keeps on telling me that all I need is to have a “Canadian workplace experience”, and I would be able to get the job that I want after. But of course, I can’t get the job that I want because technically, my university degree back home isn’t enough for the standards that this place has. And if only my mom could just stop blurting out the words: “Cum laude ka naman. Kaya mo na ‘yan.”, things would somehow feel better. Because slapping that to my face isn’t exactly the answer to all my problems in here. In fact, it gets me sadder.
I can’t help but think of all the people I may have disappointed along the way, but most especially, I can’t help but think of how I’ve disappointed myself. Everyone I would talk to from back home would ask me of how things are going in here and I would just reply, “I’m keeping my head high and my heart sturdy.”. Because, truly, I’m trying. I’m trying so hard to keep my shit together. To not break down yet again, to keep up my optimism, and to just go on. This is the sturdiest that my heart has ever been, and I’m afraid it’s still not sturdy enough. But then again, I’m trying.