I am a f*cking smooth talker as everyone pointed out. Hell yeah.
Gustuhin ko mang magpakahumble masyado silang nagc-clash ng pride ko.
I am made to brag.
Paborito ako ng mga babae at clown ako ng mga lalaki. O pwede ring clown ako ng dalawang sides. Sa madaling salita, clown nila ko.
I feel offended at first.
They laugh whenever i say something. Minsan pumasok na din sa isip ko na baka mukha ko na talaga ang tinatawanan nila.
But i highly doubt that.
I am a very charismatic person according to myself. Yes, me. I'm still finding people who would devote themselves into serving me.
Anyone willing to convert?
Even my mother wouldn't admit the fact that i am one hell of a gorgeous son she had conceived in her womb for 9 months. She denies me all the time.
Di ko rin sya masisisi, baka anak nya talaga ako sa labas at takot syang malaman ni papa. Maybe I'm too perfect to be their son.
It may be too hard for them to admit it to themselves as of now, but they will eventually accept the fact that i am too great for them to handle.
Aside from my family affairs, i also had a lot of trouble managing my time going from one group to another in our school.
Gano ba sila kadesperadong sumaya?
I enjoy the process though. Aaminin kong marami akong nahuhuthot na pagkain kada makikipag usap ako kahit kanino. It just so happens that they always had food when i arrive.
Patawanin mo lang sila at saka lang nila marerealize na mas nakakarami na ko ng subo sa pagkain nila. They do not seem to mind.
Mas nag eenjoy sila sa mga kwento ko. I seem to have a talent in making up stories. Not until one of my classmate make a joke of me being a writer.
I'm still trying to remember who the hell registered my name into a writing contest. I'm guessing it was the same person who propose the idea of me becoming a writer.
Mukhang hindi prepared ang teacher ko sa biglaang paglitaw ng pangalan ko sa sasali sa writing contest na yon. Kase maski ako hindi handa sa kung anumang bubungad sakin sa contest na yon.
To make things worse, it was on the spot poetry writing.
Poetry. Ahh yes.
Gano ba ko kabobo para isiping paso yun?
I guess it was enough for the emcee to play a laughing soundtrack when i was midway onto finishing reading out loud my written 'poetry'.
Pot, Poetry.
It does sound the same. A litte bit, i guess.
At gano ako ba talaga ko kabobo para isiping ang plural ng pot ay poetry?
Ang kabuuan ng experience ko sa writing contest na yon, ay tungkol sa kung paano ko kalinaw na dinescribe ang paso o flower pot. Hindi ko pa din malimutan kung gaano ako ka proud na sinusulat ang poetry ko habang nakatingin sa paso sa gilid ko.
I, once again, made history throughout the school.
The moment i got home, i immediately researched about pot, not poetry.
Doon ko nalaman na may flower pot pala at cooking pot.
I don't know if it was a good thing that i found out about it later than sooner.
Either way, i guess i was made to make everyone happy. And yes, I knew that I am born to be a great person.
Even though my mother was heavily against it.
****
The second question that was asked in the career orientation was this.
"What's your dream?"
Di ba parang kapareho lang to nung naunang tanong?
Gustuhin ko mang isulat ulit noon na pangarap kong maging burak, mukhang maski ata ako nalilito na din sa desisyon ko sa buhay.
-An author.
