growing up is scary.

this is why:

i’d be leaving this little freedom I’m holding on to behind—the freedom to ask for funds from my parents.

i could get a cubicle job and grow cellulites on my thighs in my spare time.

i’d listen to the idle chatter of the envious as they eye that other person from the other department. they know they shall never be as interesting as that person, and they’d think that talking about flaws could make up for what they lack.

i’d swallow being beaten to a pulp by the merciless ticking of the 8-to-5 clock.  

i’d learn to wear slippers under my table and have my heels beside me. the slippers would bear hotel insignias—those that hotel guests tuck in their bags along with the cute shampoo bottles and toothpastes during their company convention in some place like Tagaytay or Davao.

i’d wear ugly stockings—one that makes you think of department stores and overpriced shoes.

i’d put on red lipstick on a bright summer day and scratch my powdered nose.

i’d look at my pay slip, at the big portion TAX is going to eat up on my salary and watch it materialize again as part of the check that paid for the liposuction of a politician’s wife.

i'd watch my heart get crushed, beaten to a pulp, shredded over and over again--then one would wonder how many hearts managed to fit in my small body.

i'd cry over worthless stuff that i'd laugh at one day when i'd look back.

i'd be leaving friends behind to be with strangers just so i'd experience the "real world."

i'd find out that john mayer was right and that there's no such thing as "the real world."

i could go on listing so many things as to why kids should not be in a hurry to put on lipgloss and heels, or learn to cuss just to sound cool and grownup (wooo reblious... doh.).

if growing up would be like that, it is no fun.

and I wondered why I was in such in a hurry to grow up a long time ago.