When a door closes, either you stay in or out

Next week is the last of summer vacation, technically for those who had real summer vacation but I for one spent it mostly in a claustrophobic room of my summer class. That’s how I’d been spending vacations in the past two years, which makes me a bit sad because I probably would never, again, enjoy vacations at its extent when I graduate and start working.

If anyone had noticed, I wasn’t posting that much in the past few days. Maybe I was, one post a day, but those were from my arsenal of poetry. I wasn’t able to properly sit, think and write. Partly because I wanted to shut the reality of world away from me, roll over the comfort of my bed and just scream at my television while watching the Western Conference Finals (Warriors won over Rockets and they meet with Cavaliers in the finals, hurrah!). In short, I’m staying away from the inevitable thinking process of a human being. And I decided it all boils down to anxiety.

I’m scared of future. I’m scared of what it might bring. I’m scared of failure. I’m scared of not living up to expectations. I want to escape. It’s part of living, though. I don’t want to think I’m the only person here who’s afraid of the possibilities of life. Do I have control of my future? Probably. But I’d like to think I’m partly in charge of this ride while the real captain above has already laid out plans for myself. He’s the playwright and director, I’m the actor. For so many times in the past I have ran away from the inevitable like a coward criminal. But that’s the word: inevitable. I can run away from it but it will surely make its way back to me. And I’m not a criminal, I should never act like one. At the end of the day, it’s what I’m dealing with. It’s what I should deal with. Go with the flow of life and not fight against nature, never complain and wait for tomorrow because there will always be one, I like to believe. Nothing good can happen if I stay and brood in the corner, crying. I’ve known this personal concept for a long time, but it seems that I always have to remind myself each time to get motivated.

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Like a skilled swimmer, I swam my salvation away from the deep, dark blue ocean and its masked creatures lurking under, prepared to swallow me down anytime they wish.

I may not know what’s in store for me; I may not take full command of my sail; no matter how afraid I am; no matter how badly I want to escape; in the end, what should happen will happen.

But as for now, I’ll probably enjoy the comfort of my bed—waiting for my Captain’s order.

Danica Aquino, The Dirty Diaries

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Photography by Micah Camara

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Author: Danica Aquino

Tied the knot with performing arts since fourth grade; is an amateur writer (currently on her quest to writing her first novel); book and animal lover; always entranced by nature.

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