I'm back in my hometown.
Fear and illogical paranoia drain my energy. Fear I'd be missing the noise and fast-track lifestyle in Manila. People who may not really care, might see me as a failure- this led to my paranoia a few days ago. From the moment my nephew jumped into my arms. His arms wrapped around my neck, my eyes gazing towards the blue car, I saw my mother's face as she sashayed from the rear door. That face, that migraine-causing facial expression. She seemed happy to see me, validated when I saw her smile. But she is calm. As calm as the ocean. You don't really know what's beneath the silent water.
It startles me-because I am like her, sometimes. Or maybe it's a merely poor assumption one makes when you know the real score of your failures.We smile. We laugh. We struggle to maintain harmony. We hide our disappointments or qualms. As much as I don't want to hear it, I so longed to hear her say I'm indeed back, another episode of endless failures.
BUT, how does one know what has just happened is a failure. You try to grow a seed. Bury it in a box of soil. Water it. Days later, you check the box, with hopes like a child's, yearning to see a young plant. You dig and look for the seed with your index finger. Hold the seed between between your thumb and pointing fingers. At eye level, you see holes in it. The seed is dead. 'tis a failure.
You grow old from your safe existence dictated by the norms or what the society finds normal-you avoid trying things that you'd really want to try for fear of appearing crazy by your peers-that is failure.
Yet I so love my mother, She's the most patient, loyal mother, ever. Nothing compares though, to the comfort I feel when I'm home, with my mother, my family. My sister who has not ceased supporting me, which is a miracle I will forever be grateful for.
My hometown. The beer, the bike, the beach.
I am so "back."