It comes as no surprise to the people who really know me that I sometimes (or is it most of the time?) hold the throne, with the scepter and all, of being a drama queen. Actually, maybe all people I come across with might have seen that side of me already.

I was reading some of the posts I made when I started blogging some 8 years ago and boy was I full of drama!

Here’s a part of my post on the day before my 2004 birthday: “As years motioned in blur for more than 2 decades, I shouldn’t have lost that innocent enthusiasm of having to blow candles on my cake and tie balloon strings around the party place or around my wrist. Then maybe I wouldn’t just be looking at birthdays as just a reminding mortality clock ticking one year at a time.” At the end of that post I greeted myself, “Happy birthday to me. Tick.”

At the time I knew I was overanalyzing whatever it was that’s going on in my life. “Drama is me,” I wrote in another post. “Amazing at how people look for happiness yet end up lonelier and lonelier. I read somewhere that men are really lonely entities. They find companionship once in awhile but still at the finality of it all, he’s a lonely being.”

I tell you it only got worse, “I’ve a very strong feeling that I am at the verge of an emotional breakdown. The smallest provocation can stir my blood up. Disaster. ” And then I go on talking about kites, letting go and freedom, “How do you make a kite, fly it, tug the string to keep it soaring and actually learn to let go of your firm hold once it’s too high up there that it seems to be seeking freedom from you? “ 

I have no idea what went on then. Or maybe I do. Maybe I know what it was but it’s quite vague. I guess that’s one of the cool things about keeping a blog: five years down the road, you go back and read something you had no clue you can write about.

Somewhere, sometime, things could be a little positive and nice: “Love is universal.” You see, I talked about love. “Pain is universal. Everything is in pair. ” SHIT.

Of course, at one time I was broken hearted. I posted lines from Alanis Morissette song: “I/recommend getting your heart trampled on to anyone/yeah/You live, you learn/You love, you learn/You cry, you learn/You lose you learn/You bleed, you learn/You scream, you learn.”

This part I remember I told someone: “I remember some lines from Angels and Demons that go, when two souls go through a tribulation together both will have some exclusive, indelible spot in each other’s hearts already.” Today, two words for that: NOT TRUE!

Here and there, there were one liners that reek of mawkishness and sentimentality I can’t stand to read now. “Life’s still good to me.” I mean how bad did I think my life was? I think when I was younger, I created, at least in my writing, this illusion that the world is responsible to look after me and that when things get a little bumpy I can just throw it back to the “life” and say, “I deserve better!” 

As I got older, I saw that it’s not at all like that because in fact, life will suck. One time or another. While it does, there’s not a lot of time alloted for self-pity. The real test if you truly deserve better is by getting better. You fall down, you get up. You hit a roadblock, you take that leap. You get hurt—yes you can cry for a while—but you work on your pain. When you’re older, you don’t find as much use for drama as you did when you were younger.