daughter's chair

Holidays have been great. I love holidays. Some things make u or break u. but I feel the holidays kept me stagnant. Which isn’t a good sign.

However, I did grow in some sense. Of course I have to. With all the exciting things I get to do while I don’t have to attend class everyday. Not saying I only learn outside of the classroom. Literal learning is put at hold and I’ve to sensitize my observations to a higher level for learning.

Every morning, now that I’m home, I try to help out with the house work. It disappoints me when I find out that they think I don’t do enuf at home. I am trying… really… yet I’m not the perfect daughter still…

If I can, I’d hang the clothes, sweep the floor, make their beds, fold the clothes; all done willingly. Even big decisions are made based on their expectations. I’m sitting on the daughter’s chair without complaints. Even with a smile on my face, I sit.

Gonna be 21 this year. Gonna get the golden key thingy. Wonder how that wud make a difference in the way I’m gonna b on this chair. Wonder if its time I move into the rebellious stage of breaking the silence and pouring in awkwardness into our conversations. Or I could sit on the floor, legs crossed, and know that I’ll be accepted for how my thoughts are expressed.

Or it might be great to just continue to flexibly smile on the seat of high expectations. Since I’m compliant, and since I’ve been doing it all my life. That’s not that hard. Dreaming big is not a problem with my acute imagination. Daring to get up and do it is a whole new energy. What if my big dream is to be ordinary? Would that still be considered big? Would that even be called a dream? Am I allowed to be mediocre?

Anyhow, I know it’s all good. Those hopes are of noble intentions. I’m grateful to have this chair to sit on. Just that… sometimes I don’t wanna follow the intended scripts. I wanna find the real character, sitting on the floor, legs crossed.