‘Cause when you’re sixteen

Not quite sure why I bother writing every day – maybe it relieves the weight of thoughts against the corners of the brain. Of all the work there is to do and copious amounts of overwhelmingness burning within, today’s fleeting thought has been there, for almost a week, a year, half a decade, and forever.

I bade goodbye to my chance when I was sixteen.

i don’t think i’ll ever forget bitterness. Because taking this route down hasn’t been the best decision ever; my life has been tumbling downhill ever since, particularly in the education aspect. Would i have thrived elsewhere? Quite possibly, yes.

Would i have beared to leave the people behind? Honestly, yes. I would and I would and I would, even for the thousandth time this question is asked. And i am quite certain i would’ve been so much more stronger than who i am today – for going away makes it easier to detach oneself – less reliant, less needy, more independent, more resilient, more of everything optimisitic.

If winding the clock brings me back in time – i would have wished even harder for my parents to send me away even if we were tight, financially. In the years to come there would be so many things that put this family through trials; but I think that it is so much more heartbreaking, if they ever see, myself as I really am today.

I wished I had more nice things to say, but I was raised not to lie.

I used to think it’s not always about the money, and the world certainly doesn’t revolve around it. In the last five years, being stuck here has only pushed me further away from that, and converge towards the materialistic view that it is *almost* always all about the money. when you’ve plunged so darn low and desperately struggling to stay afloat – you learn why. You bid farewell to opportunities. You live in an everlasting bitterness of regret. You always wonder. When you say goodbye to an opportunity that you saw yourself excelling in, it feels like the light in you inevitably dies, and the light you’re so drawn to outside seems a lightyear further away from its previously far – altogether unattainable. If you had the excess wealth you could fund yourself. If you had the excess wealth you could be anywhere you want, anyone you want, and you could buy all the plane tickets in the world to bring you away from the sadness – or perhaps you could travel with sadness and it would be your companion; you could choose to live and die anywhere you want – without having anyone know. You could be a lost cause, even. A fulfilling lost cause rather than a miserable lost cause. Compare the philanthropist and the saints – the former are in excess to the latter. They have greater outreach, faster outreach, and wider impact in a shorter time; that’s the power of money, with good charm and kindness. They bring out the best in themselves, the best in their wealth, and they can choose to retire however they want – not having to be at the mercy, feet and directions of someone’s lead.

I detest how money divides and tears people apart, and splits the world into not the seven continents and plates and seas – but rather, into two.

– In loving memory of the unrecognised ;

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