masama ang loob ko sa inyo. kasi sa totoo lang, kahit hayup-hayop yung kapatid ko, sya pa din ang pinapaburan kasi sya yung hindi nag-asawa agad. ‘tang ina, sa kabila ng lahat ng ginawa nya kagaguhan at ng ginawang kong tulong, e sya pa din ang lalabas na magaling, putcha talu-talo na ito.
bakit, sa palagay mo ba dadalahin nya dito sa SG ang nanay at kapatid ko kung hindi ko biglang pinapunta yung mag-ina ko dito? 4years sa sa SG ngayon lang nya naisip papuntahin sila for vacation, samantalang ako e wala pang isang taon yun muna ang pinag-ipunan ko? alam kaya ng magulang ko na mas pinipili ng kapatid kong manuod ng ANTM kesa kausapin sila sa skype, nung mga panahong magkasama pa kami sa room? na pagsinabi nyang kakain muna sya, ibig sabihin nun, manunuod sya sa youtube? nakakainis lang ng sobra.
sana wag lang silang mag-expect na may matitira pang paggalang pagkatapos ng lahat ng ito. ayoko na. suko na ako.
My place. My nook. My home away from nowhere. Here where the sun thrives on my body's ink. Here is where evil is reborn. Eternally.
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 15, 2012
THE PEDANTIC 3: RIVALRY
It is surprising to understand that at the end of the day, favouritism is still a big factor in broods of two or more. Let’s face the facts: although siblings are supposed to be raised and treated the same way, it is evident that some family structures cultivate some sort of rivalry among siblings, which in effect creates either rifts between them or the rise of the favoured child.
I admit, I was quite the favourite when I was younger. For one, I was the only first-borne in the Philippines (since my older cousin was already in California) and I was showing so much promise in academics– a cornerstone of the family’s tradition. At a tender age of two, I started reading newspapers and by six, graduated with outstanding marks in pre-school. I bravely took the primary school entrance exam on my own, and pretty much grew independently until my university days. I was presumed to be good at a lot of things, especially those that concerned the languages, history and science. I was among the teachers’ bet when it came to performing in class, although I had a very poor social life during my primary and secondary school years.
In essence, I was an A1 child in terms of the academics. And then, a few more years later, my first brother was born. Although he was a bundle of joy, he was perceived as different. He was more of the outdoorsy type, and like playing with basketballs and staying under the sun, while I toiled away in the confines of the sanctuary I called my room. Eventually, his fluctuating grades paved the way for comparison, since he wasn’t performing as he should, or at least as my parents wanted him to. The effect: at some point, he was marked as second-rate, and was branded as someone who might never achieve anything, aside from a mediocre life. And so he lived through 25 years of his life believing this, partly because he was treated as if it was true and etched in his heart every day of his life.
It was the morning of January 2 that he had a conversation with my mom and other siblings, telling them how much he wanted to become an engineer and that his life would have been different. That night, my brother died in a motorcycle accident, with multiple head injuries, a fractured skull and bruises lining his body like pavement crossings.
My second brother almost suffered the same fate as my younger brother, although towards the beginning of his career, the tables turned and I found myself being compared to him. He was three when he started uttering complete sentences– a feat our parents thought almost meant he would never be able to talk, ever. After he learnt, it was easy for us to identify that he head the gift of gab. And so by his university days, he was already hosting school programmes and events, much to the happy comparison of my superiors, since he finished his degree in the same university I was a head of department of.
Eventually, his voice and personality gained renown, and I was pushed to the side, given a taste of my own medicine, and relinquished of the attention I was initially given early on in my career. That made me feel very neglected, but looking at it now, I realise that more than the neglect, it was a perfect re-orchestration of what had happened to myself and my younger brother– only this time, I was the one being compared to him. He was the new standard, and I had to catch up.
Although at the end of the day, it could be disputed or attributed that the sibling rivalries were the result of the relegation of one’s children, I feel that there is always more to the situations under hand, once the individual doing the analysis garners enough maturity and sufficient understanding. As for myself, seeing that I still remain to be the eldest, one of the more favoured of the clan’s brood, I cannot safely say that I have developed enough understanding to digest the frivolities and nuances that the situations command us to do so. I can only speculate that eventually I will learn to understand and accept the fact that sometimes rivalries are just as vicious as Venus flytraps or laughing hyenas out for a night’s foraging.
It is surprising to understand that at the end of the day, favouritism is still a big factor in broods of two or more. Let’s face the facts: although siblings are supposed to be raised and treated the same way, it is evident that some family structures cultivate some sort of rivalry among siblings, which in effect creates either rifts between them or the rise of the favoured child.
I admit, I was quite the favourite when I was younger. For one, I was the only first-borne in the Philippines (since my older cousin was already in California) and I was showing so much promise in academics– a cornerstone of the family’s tradition. At a tender age of two, I started reading newspapers and by six, graduated with outstanding marks in pre-school. I bravely took the primary school entrance exam on my own, and pretty much grew independently until my university days. I was presumed to be good at a lot of things, especially those that concerned the languages, history and science. I was among the teachers’ bet when it came to performing in class, although I had a very poor social life during my primary and secondary school years.
In essence, I was an A1 child in terms of the academics. And then, a few more years later, my first brother was born. Although he was a bundle of joy, he was perceived as different. He was more of the outdoorsy type, and like playing with basketballs and staying under the sun, while I toiled away in the confines of the sanctuary I called my room. Eventually, his fluctuating grades paved the way for comparison, since he wasn’t performing as he should, or at least as my parents wanted him to. The effect: at some point, he was marked as second-rate, and was branded as someone who might never achieve anything, aside from a mediocre life. And so he lived through 25 years of his life believing this, partly because he was treated as if it was true and etched in his heart every day of his life.
It was the morning of January 2 that he had a conversation with my mom and other siblings, telling them how much he wanted to become an engineer and that his life would have been different. That night, my brother died in a motorcycle accident, with multiple head injuries, a fractured skull and bruises lining his body like pavement crossings.
My second brother almost suffered the same fate as my younger brother, although towards the beginning of his career, the tables turned and I found myself being compared to him. He was three when he started uttering complete sentences– a feat our parents thought almost meant he would never be able to talk, ever. After he learnt, it was easy for us to identify that he head the gift of gab. And so by his university days, he was already hosting school programmes and events, much to the happy comparison of my superiors, since he finished his degree in the same university I was a head of department of.
Eventually, his voice and personality gained renown, and I was pushed to the side, given a taste of my own medicine, and relinquished of the attention I was initially given early on in my career. That made me feel very neglected, but looking at it now, I realise that more than the neglect, it was a perfect re-orchestration of what had happened to myself and my younger brother– only this time, I was the one being compared to him. He was the new standard, and I had to catch up.
Although at the end of the day, it could be disputed or attributed that the sibling rivalries were the result of the relegation of one’s children, I feel that there is always more to the situations under hand, once the individual doing the analysis garners enough maturity and sufficient understanding. As for myself, seeing that I still remain to be the eldest, one of the more favoured of the clan’s brood, I cannot safely say that I have developed enough understanding to digest the frivolities and nuances that the situations command us to do so. I can only speculate that eventually I will learn to understand and accept the fact that sometimes rivalries are just as vicious as Venus flytraps or laughing hyenas out for a night’s foraging.
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