The Head Turner
I'm a village girl living in a small house in a small villa in a small town. I've never been in the in crowd. Girls like me belong to the people who are contented to sit down in a chair drinking a glass of juice while watching others dance in ecstasy during a class reunion or Halloween party. I'm not a campus crush and I'll never be. I'm not a beauty queen, I'll never become one. I'm not a princess. Nobody told me that I am and there are few dumb people who tell me I'm pretty every time they see me. Pretty is not even appropriate for my age; I believe the word pretty is for teenage girls and I am no teenager. But they tell me I'm pretty so that makes me think I don't look my age. Everything to me is small and simple--my family's problems and even the world and all the things that exist in it. I always believe I am larger than life and bigger than any challenges that human life brings. I have a simple life and my world revolves around my family, education and friends. I don't like problems and anything complicated, who wants them anyway? I kill anything that makes my life miserable.
Nobody thinks I have a boring daily routine. Each morning would start when I open my eyes while still lying on our bed. I would not pray and thank God for another day he has given me, I'm not used to that and I don't even know how to pray the rosary; nobody taught me. As a matter of fact, I only know two prayers but haven't memorized them yet so what I do every time I'd pray is to recite my own prayer that changes every day. I talk to God the way I talk to my friends. I say bad words, anything I want to say and I even confess my deepest darkest secret. And then I'd fix the bed, make my coffee, eat two slices of bread and stare at the sky and tell myself, "what a dream I had last night, I hope I wasn't able to wake up." The moment I feel the hotness of the coffee in my throat while drinking it is the time I make myself believe I'm alive and this day would be a new adventure--another day in the life of Valorie. Next to that would be riding a public vehicle to school, meeting my teachers and classmates, loitering in the canteen and reading a good book in the library if I'm in the mood because if I'm not reading a book or studying in the library--I'm sleeping! But of course I make sure that the librarian would not catch me. That's another story. Then, my day would end with going straight home, taking a rest and waking up in the morning to witness the sun shines anew. I lived that kind of life for almost 15 years, I guess and I thought I was happy. I thought I was contented and will not crave for more. But, now I realized I was wrong.
Have I told you that we lived in five different places prior to living here in our current residence? Yes, that's true. It seems that whenever I'd graduate, we had to leave and transfer to another place, but no, that's not the point, we transferred time after time because we needed to--because my parents were looking for a perfect place for a business that's never been successful, anyway.
My daily routine changed when I started working. I transferred to my Aunt's house and lived with her. I first worked in a call center. When I received a call from a man whose voice is so charming and seemed like seducing me (how did I know he's seducing me? It’s for you to find out) while informing me that I got the job and we'll be starting the training at the end of March or on the first week of April. "Wow," I said to myself, "that's really unexpected but that's good news for me, I'll go tell my Aunt when she comes home later tonight." I felt happiness though I knew I wouldn't love the job and I wasn't wrong because I never did love it. Morning became night and night became morning to me. I've got to talk to different people for eight to ten hours per night. I was so stressed every night because everybody's yelling at me over the phone like "why the f**k your service is so ridiculous! When it rains a little, the internet connection will be interrupted right away?" "oh, you sonofab**h! you fu**ing idiot people! you're wasting my money!" "Are you a martian? because I don't understand you." "Give me a representative who can speak proper English 'cos you can't!" "you're so stupid! did you go to college?" and so on and so forth. Well, I realized those are good pickup lines, huh? But there's something about the job that made me like it a little bit--friends, I found lots of them but only few remains when I left, of course it's the rule, it's like Newton's law of action and reaction--you left them, they'll surely leave you too. Who'll choose to remain when you decided to leave? God? Friends are not gods; their devils--devils in a good way.
When I quit the job in that call center because I couldn't take it anymore, I couldn't absorb what the customers say to me anymore while I just sit, listen to them and help them resolve their problems so I could have like four hundred pesos for that night, I was hired in a law firm as a receptionist. The job is boring, salary is low and people are serious--fu**in' serious. I'm 22 but with them, Oh c'mmon, I looked 32. But I also found new fiends there, young like me, crazy and bored as I am. During lunch time, we'll assemble in the kitchen to eat and to chitchat about the monster boss, the confused manager and the boastful assistant. An hour with them was amazing--laughs; jokes, wholesome and green; and of course, insults. A day couldn't end without insults, it's part of my life--it's either I insult them and they insult me back or they insult me and I laugh at them because I don't insult people back. Oh, well, after few months, the job left me, I did not quit it, mind you, it left me because I don't love it and I'll never love it. I’m not bitter about it because I’m so glad that I’m free! One thing I've learned from working in a company is that employees can have a low compensation but be patient about it because they have a kind boss, great working environment and nice colleagues but employees can be impatient too though they have a high salary but an awful boss always awaits them to commit mistakes so he would have a reason to fire them right away. Well, the worst thing about working is when you have a very low salary and you have two or more awful bosses. That's very sad. You'll regret that you sold yourself to them during your job interview. If only I could turn back the time, I’ll never leave my first job for my second.
So, now I’m back to writing again because I have so much time to do this. Soon, I’ll be a teacher. I’ve got the license now! One of my dreams came true and my inspirations for pursuing each and every dream I have are the people who want to bring me down and the people who always tell me that I CAN’T. I don’t have pictures of them but they’ll live in my memory until I die. Well, some are my facebook friends.
My journey to happiness is yet to start and I don't have an idea of when to begin and which way to go. Happiness is the goal of every man on earth and it’s also the hardest thing to find. When a man is born, he doesn’t have an idea of what his purpose for being here is. When he dies, I’m afraid he still doesn’t know. I've met too many people though science tells us that the brain only remembers about 150 people you met in your entire life, but I'm not sure if I can remember 150 people, how about you? A hundred and fifty people are too much. One person is enough more especially if he's true to you and to himself as well. So, let's subtract 149. But how about your family? Well, someday you'll leave your parents and they'll end up having each other while your siblings have already found their better half too. I count family as one until it’s broken. I know I am too young to conclude that the world is either cruel or beautiful. I know it’s too soon to say that life is either easy or hard. It is too early to say that a simple life makes a person simple and contented or to say that a complicated life makes a person strong and ready for any trial. Yes, I am too young to state that I’ve already found out the meaning of happiness because the truth is I haven’t met happiness yet but I am confident to say that happiness cannot be found inside a first class restaurant with first class people whom we called socialites; it cannot also be found in an air-conditioned office with a new laptop and a nice table with your name on it; it is not happiness when you won the lottery or when you married a handsome lad with a handsome Cadillac; it’s not what everybody thinks it is. Peace, I believe, is equivalent to happiness. Peace that man achieves when he can already accept and welcome death without regret and worry. Peace that man can achieve from accepting the consequences of his mistakes not from praying to be saved from his sins because that act is like washing his hands and playing safe. If man has sinned, man has to suffer not only to ask for forgiveness but to pay for his mistakes at the same time.
And that’s the thing that man doesn’t and cannot possess while walking the Earth—PEACE.