Run

Ever had that time in your life wherein you wanted to just run? Run away from everything that makes you feel scared and sad? I did. Several times in fact, and even now, I am still running for my life. I keep running on an endless path with no direction whatsoever. I am in a constant marathon to find myself.

Ever since I had acquired what is called common sense, I began to question my existence. I was in a constant battle of wits with my self. Thus, I have become an introvert in many ways. I must have been born with a defect, since people were never happy with me. Even my parents. The people whom I thought doted on me were just putting up a farce. Back then I did not give it much thought, since I was a noob at life, I thought that was normal. I thought that is how parents act with their kids.

Then I began to see. For the first time in my life, I opened my eyes. I saw what was around me. And then I saw what life was really like. I saw my father hitting my brother because he had done something wrong. I saw him battering my mother for protecting my brother. Then I saw my grandfather battering my father in a much more horrid way in revenge for what he did to my mother and brother. I was there, a lone spectator and witness, to a chaotic reality.

From then on, I had a pessimistic outlook on life. I believed that reality was distorted in every way and that it only makes people hurt and suffer until they eventually give in and die. I was always worrying about every little thing. Trying as much as possible to not commit any mistake for fear that I might get punished like my brother. I was scared. So scared that I just wanted to run away from everything and created a world of my own. For a while I lived in a wonderland where I was the hero who saves the day from the evil doers. I was perfectly happy within that world. Then I grew up. I eventually lost my wonder world. I was running again.


I was running like a mad man. Not taking any breaks in between, afraid to lose the race. I was running as if my very existence depended on it. I ran and ran until I eventually got tired of running. I thought that for a brief moment that I could finally rest and live my life. But I was wrong. No one seemed to really understand me at all. I tried telling my story, but no one seems to hear me. They always say,"why are you tired? You are still young. If you get tired now, how will you make it out in the world when you grow up?". I became even more cynical with those very words. And to think they were religious proctors who preach like they are Jesus. I got fed up. I thought adults were all cynics and evil no matter how spiritual they become. They are all the same.

So I ran again. I ran from the reality of having no one to turn to and no one to believe in. I was constantly crying all through out my running escapades. I thought that if I keep on running, eventually, I will find my purpose in life and my tears would stop from flowing. It was then that I found something close to what people call "happiness", I found "love". At first, I thought "love" was like hitting people and spewing sarcasm at them all the while, because that was what my parents "love" was like. Soon after, I came to realize that it was not "love". I was deluded with a pretense of what "love" was. But then that person endured it all the while, so I thought, "ah, this must be what love is", I was led on an endless goose chase then. I began to have second thoughts on life. I thought that maybe its not so bad after all. Perhaps now I can believe in life, I thought. But then the eventful happened, and the "love" I carefully built up, shattered to a million pieces.
And just like that I was once more back on the running track. I was running like hell. It became a constant battle for me to find myself. Then I graduated. I passed the board exams. I took my oath. I became a professional. I thought I could finally end my race and LIVE. But I was wrong. I was bound by a thousand invisible chains called "gratitude and responsibilities". So even if I tried, I still could not reach the finish line. I realized then that running had become harder now. As I was running, a lot of people have already passed me by. They were the people I called "friends". They have found what they were looking for and have become successful and are nearing the finish line, while I was left behind, lagging all the way. I was frantic to catch up to them, futilely trying to hasten my speed, but try as I might, I could never catch up to them. I was left behind. I was just looking at their backs and soon after just their silhouettes. I was alone again. Just as I came into this world.

Then it hit me, I was never living as a human all this while. I was too afraid. Because of what I experienced during my tender years, I have acquired a constant and irreparable fear of living. I am afraid that if I live, I will just hurt people and get hurt in return. My mere existence is appalling to them that I am scared to be even noticed. So I ran...

This time I decided to run to find myself. To find who I really am and finally live.