27~ Why Chibi Maruko-chan is made of win

This morning, my brother had a bum stomach. I felt so bad for him, I wanted the pain myself so I’d get thin.  >_>; He wants to go to school tomorrow ’cause it’s their feast day and being the busybody that he is, how can he miss the event? If I were the one with the stomachache, I wouldn’t miss out on anything because I don’t have classes every Monday.

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Yesterday, I finished watching the live action adaptation of the popular cartoon Chibi Maruko-chan. I didn’t expect tear-jerking scenes (or maybe I’m the type of person who’d cry watching it because I can relate), and it reminded me of how mischievous I was way back when I was a kid.

Little lessons in life like “Don’t lie.”, “Apologize when you made a mistake.”, “Behave.”, brings back the memories of the times I learned them by myself. I can remember being scolded because of my mischiefs, of being a very naughty kid who looked as if she’s high on E. XD I can totally relate.

When I was a kid, I was my parents’ joy and pain. I even thought I brought them all sorts of misfortune, and because of that, I became motivated to do my best and somehow, make them proud of me. When I join and win contests, I feel satisfaction beyond compare because it was for them. It was a great feeling to bring them happiness…but that was when I still was a kid.

I think I haven’t brought home any good and epic news since I started my college life.  Maybe I had some, but they were too minor and less interesting (or should I say, almost nil?). Whenever my cousins get praised for their achievements, I feel my confidence dwindle to the size of a mustard seed. I’m kinda pragmatic, I can’t put my mind to rest ’cause I always thought of myself as an unusual girl. I was told that I am the “picture of restraint”, the epitome of childlike coolness, but in life, I’ve never done something that made me really appreciate my worth.

Back to Chibi Maruko-chan, I realized that my inner child hasn’t left me yet. To quote Tegomass’ song “Miso Soup”:

I’m always a kid, I’ll never be matured enough. Never ask for anything, you gave me all the love you have. All the love you gave me, Mom. Makes me want to see you again…”

I’m so sensitive and emotional and I easily cry at the littlest of things. Growing up is a risky business, and I can’t really move on to being an adult. Am not ready for that phase, am not prepared to let go yet. Even if I say I don’t want to hurry, the rest of the world is changing. I’m left out. It’s my fear of failure, of committing mistakes that I’ll soon regret.

I can never hide what I feel when I write. Yes, I feel crappy and sad because I dwell too much on the past.

I don’t think I’m a bad kid after all.

Than you, that makes me feel great.

But the truth is, this sugarcoating doesn’t last, and I’ll probably cry myself to sleep later.