Beating For.

Great minds are great because they know what it is that their hearts beat for.

If only -oh, how much it grieves me to use that toxic combination of words- I know what mine beats for. Is it History? That, which had aroused me at the tender age of 7 or 8. That, which was the cause as to why I am this weird, dull creature. Is it Literature? That, which made my rainy days warm and soothing? That made me see the world underneath a different light? Is it the art of cinematography? That wonderful modern art that offers mankind to see what truly is inside of me. Cinematography, that made my knees weak with exhaustion and my eyes brightening for more?

Maybe my heart beats for them all.

But one thing is for sure: the path I am now taking is not what I want.

There is no joy in me. I do not feel any excitement when I learned something new from it. No pulsing moments of wonderment. There is nothing. I was never meant to be a technologist. I loathed technology for its consuming void in the lives of the people. They fail to see the beauty beyond the summit of buildings and the luminescence of their cellulars.

I was never born to be here.

I am not smart in terms of mathematical ability nor am I gifted in logical reasoning.

I believe I am an artist. A free-willed person who wants to do what she wants and what she can. I was not gifted with a brain that can be above more than the others. I am given the mind of a dunce -an imbecile. An imbecile who cannot make her own decisions correctly.

This is wrong.

The longer I stay in this path, the more grievous I feel. It is like not being able to marry the one that you care deeply for. And its really constricting.

I want to be free in some way or another but then, society dictates that one must earn money to survive and so indeed, I must. But what is money, truly? When the rest of the world is ash, rust and bones, money will be nothing more than paper to fuel the fire for warmth. And by then, what will be coins for? None but tokens of a memory long gone.

If and only if, I am not confined. If and only if I can be truly alone most of the time. I might achieve a higher sense of enlightenment. And yet again, I must complain about always surrounded by people who loves to talk more about themselves than whatever else that there might be. If and only if, they can leave me alone. Even for such a small amount of time: I will be very grateful. If and only if I have enough time to know more about the things that I love the most. If and only if, I have the money to provide my own education for these crafts.

But I have none.

No solace.

No time.

No money.

I cannot do anything about it. I am only a mere slave -a puppet- to the society’s domineering principles. I am stuck with people who will not think twice of stamping down on you with their ruthless, egoistic feet. I am a victim and a predator, at the same time. I prey on the weak-hearted and the slow of mind. That was how the world taught us -in my perspective, that is. And as we grow older we earn more and more horns upon our heads, our tails will grow longer and God’s kindled fire inside us will fade out and die.



Published by

cie miraflor

A Filipino at heart and a Thomasian in spirit. A vocalist. A bookworm. A chocoholic. A liar. A dreamer. A coffee addict. A writer of poetry and short stories. A pending Information Technologist. A frustrated programmer. Blinded with love for Batman.

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