Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Life is a box of chocolates

We enter this world clueless about everything: having no idea who our parents are going to be and what the colour of our skin is.  And once we come out from our mother's womb- that's it; life begins with everybody's permission, but us. 

Some people were born at time of desperation and grief, a time when the world is at war and everyone is on their knees, waiting for rations of food. 

I wonder what it's like for child growing up in a facade where soldiers, trucks and guns were a staggering reality, and not a set of imitation toys that come from a box with G.I Joe in it. 

A childhood clouded in instability and grounded in fear brings out a set of qualities far from those children born with a silver spoon in their mouth: a utensil used by filthy rich parents in creating spoiled brats- spooning caviars and luxurious excesses.    

We are more the same than we think we are not.  

How I express my emotions, what I prefer to eat in the morning or whom I choose to go out with is just a result of life’s concoctions or nature's accident. In the beginning, we barely have any choice; we are forced to accept what we are born with: a protruding forehead, a competitive sibling, or a traditional society. 

A combination of different traits, family background and environmental factors can produce many archetypes: the black sheep, damsel in distress or a knight in shining armour, just to name a popular few. 

Even though no individual is a carbon copy of each other in all aspects, friendships can still blossom even from outside one's circle, because out of the many things to like and dislike, chances are high that there might be somebody out there who also appreciates, for example: the serenading charm of the Backstreet Boys, as you do. 

I think if you strip out all of mankind's inherent and acquired qualities, we are one and the same, just like plants that will nevertheless grow and contribute to the ecosystem may it rooted be in a garden pot or in the rich soil of the Amazon wild.

We experience and interpret life in various degrees. 

History as we know it is accounted by the best of the best. Top notch skills inclined with accuracy and organisation are capitalised to produce a story to be read by future generations- all with the purpose of capturing a valuable point in time. 

His ‘story’ or an author’s point of view- on how man discovered fire, what triggered the 9/11 tragedy, or how Michael Jackson turned white, is more likely a universal fact for having been based on evidences and testimonies that fits like a glove, but I believe that narrations, no matter how agreeable and compelling it seems, will always be just a speck of the truth.

I’m not questioning the reliability of history books and investigative reports. Facts are facts but it will always be subject to human error; and to what degree it has pulled away from what really happened- only God knows. 

As limitless beings, we’re always in search of sanity and purpose. We look at another person’s experience to make logical conclusions and subjective interpretations. Neither is right or wrong- except on what we choose to believe. 

We easily make judgments that life is unfair for good natured people living on less than a dollar a day, but who knows- they might actually be more contented and at peace with who they are, than those people with so much money but become slaves to it, thus having suicidal tendencies or end up on rehab centres.


  1. wow kat! I'll be your first follower ;)denise

  2. Thanks for reading:)

    What I have written and will write here is very 'Kat' and everything that's really eating me inside. I better use my energy in ways to discover myself more, improve a craft and sprinkle some seeds of positive thinking or self awareness.