Some people believe that in a crowded place, say a train station or a crowded city crossroad, there is a good possibility that a portion of them are ghosts, or spirits. In one case or so, that is true.
We become sad. At times. And we feel the most sadness when we start to tear up and cry. We cry when we are left alone at school, or when we hit ourselves over the head with a ball as a child. We cry when we fly alone to go to college. We cry when we receive a first heartbreak. And a second, and a third.
It’s ridiculous and useless when you think about it. Nothing really gets accomplished. But why do it? Why do we cry?
This is not going to be one of those psychology posts that explains scientifically why you cry, no. But deep down, you’re bound to know why you are crying, even without the scientific terms and jargon. And even if when people coerce you to tell them why, you don’t.
We cry to let people know that we are not okay. We are in pain, we are overwhelmed. And some kind of reassurance that everything is going to be okay is the expected response to the listeners. It’s kind of both a convenience and inconvenience if you think about it, there really is just no way to hide what you’re feeling unless you are really good at hiding them.
But nowadays, it doesn’t happen that way, where people express an immediate response of empathy. People are being conditioned that crying is weak, and unappealing. Even women are not supposed to cry, in this age of feminism and women empowerment. Men are not exempted of this fact, even if women express that they love a man who can cry. And no, sweating through your eyes is not going to cut it.
We are supposed to strong independent individuals and we need to appear that way even if the darkest corners of your heart are craving for a good cry, a good shout that “Hey! I need some help!”
Because we are supposed to be strong. We are supposed to be strong enough to face whatever challenges overcome us.
We are supposed to be fine. I cannot stress enough how bad that simple word appears. We have ended up in a world where people are only allowed to cry behind closed doors. Only to the closest of people that you know will empathize, and even those are already so hard to find.
We cry to let people know we are not okay. When we don’t, people will just pass by and think that we are, even if we are not.
And people will just pass by.
And feelings will be left unheard.
And you walk on, and you say that one line to yourself once more.
Sometimes we forget that we do have the ability to think about things critically, even if it seems that situations are normal or accepted. There would be less of a need to talk about what you think when everybody earns the respect of individual thought.
Freedom of speech is a very relative kind of freedom. It is sensitive, it is situational. And sometimes for good reason. Which is why the mind must think first, the mouth open second.
While having a lone breakfast near the house the TV was open for everyone’s entertainment. As far as I know it was pretty common for local carinderias (eateries) to have this kind of leeway to customer patience, but what I find quite different that morning, was the educational children’s shows.
The television drew my attention as it played that familiar tune from a childhood that can’t yet afford cable. It was the flagship educational show for Math (or Maths, however you call it) that was around when I was a child, and I didn’t know they were airing it again, since I didn’t own a TV. But there was something strange about it this time around. Continue reading “Language and Local Children’s Shows”
Your home is on fire. Grab five items (assume all people and animals are safe). What did you grab?
I assume the purpose of this prompt is to talk what is important to you. But in moments of a real fire, you don’t really think about things like that. As with Sherlock Holmes, mothers bring their babies, women who are not moms bring their jewelries, and Irene Adlers bring incriminating pictures of royals. Continue reading “Instinct Dictates that You Run, but…”
“Things change. And friends leave. Life doesn’t stop for anybody.” ~Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being A Wallflower
My professor gave us an example. She made us remember what it was like, to leave hometowns to study for college. Then, when we come back, it’s a whole different story. There are new stores all around, new buildings, even new faces. And maybe, if you notice that nothing has changed, then maybe it’s you that have changed. Continue reading “You Can Never Go Home”