Making Toast

Many modern-day inspirational writers tell us to take the reins and take control of our lives. Our past do not have to define our future. But here's the stark-frozen truth: Our past do affect us in every possible way even when we do not want it too, even if we fight it. A time will come when we tire of fighting for the very essence of our lives which is our past and when that time comes, we realize that we are back at square one: confused, utterly dejected and humbled--by the fact that we really can't fight the forces of nature, we can't fight what made us.

Take our fears, for example, they weren't given to us by fate; they were given to us over time, gradually, little by little. Our fears are the fruits of our past. Our fears spring from what have been deprived of or taken from us. I for one have this fear of intimacy, of commitments, of attachments to anyone or anything. This is because I was deprived of a childhood where I could cultivate relationships without fear of having those relationships taken away from me. I always expected things to go away or to be taken away from me and for good reasons. First, I was left with a broken home when my father became a shipman overseas. Second, my mother left my brother and I under the care of our grandmother so she could leave the city and start a family with her new beau and her new baby. Third, I was transferred from one school to another because money was tight during those days and we couldn't sustain going to private schools, even the more inefficient ones. Fourth, I was left to rot in the streets and sell my soul to the dogs. Okay, that wasn't me. That was from one of those crappy drama series. *clears throat* Fourth, my mother took me away from the home I've come to love only to bring me to a drunkard step uncle who would purposely make my brother and I drool as he gives my half sister munchies, and a stepfather who would pull my mother's hair and beat her black and blue. Fifth, I was forced to leave my first best friend, my first clique, my first crush and other firsts because my step father got relocated.

I could name a few more but that would probably take more minutes and more web space. The important thing is I've proven my point that sometimes we just can't help but be acted upon. I know that if I want to, I can fight my now natural tendency to not give a fuck about other people's concerns, birthdays, shining moments and all that crap. But I'm tired of fighting for that heart that I could never ever have. I've fought hard all my life and sometimes, things are just not worth fighting for...things like a caring heart.

Toast: Sliced bread heated and browned.

Life is all about being forced to get kicked out of bed by one's own common sense, getting the water heater to run, making toast and racing for work.

Making toast on its own deserves the merit of merits of each day. Perfecting one's toast equals perfecting coffee hour. A perfect coffee hour means a lesser evil version of me in the office. A lesser version of me in the office means a more appreciative boss, happier colleagues, tolerant mother, generous siblings and, all in all, a day in la-la land.

Tomorrow's worries are, as usual, casting their ugly heads in my now pained arse. There's nothing more delectable than indulging in a scene of a runaway worker, making it to the airport on time and swiping credit cards for a badly needed ticket for paradise, knowing too that runaway worker is insane for swiping cards about without any idea as to when she will ever be able to pay.

Tomorrow's worries I'll leave for tomorrow. I'll let today be.