the longest journey begins with a single step

       We do not only make mistakes by doing things, but sometimes we also make mistakes by not doing things. It’s not always about the things we do, but also about the things we fail to do.

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        I do want to go back home… but the mere thought of it already scares me. Every time it occurs in my head, fright occurs in my heart. The longer I stay here, the scarier I get. I don’t know. Maybe I’m getting too comfortable here… I’m not contradicting my previous statement that: I don’t like my job, I hate my officemates, the place is depressing, I’m so sick and tired of things… etc. etc… I still feel that way… Nothing has changed. I doubt if it would, anyway. But at the very least, I feel a sense security here… financial security to be precise… and of course, no matter how often my sister and I disagree… I can’t still leave without the assurance that she’s gonna be fine here.

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      I have qualms about how most parents foster and cultivate in their children the customary value of debt of gratitude. I don’t have a problem with the value itself. But I do have a problem with parents’ fostering of dependence and patronage of this. I have a bigger problem with parents who exploit this. It’s not right that while raising your children, you constantly pound them with the thought that they owe you for raising them…that children have to take care of you someday because you’ve taken care of them. I just don’t think it supposed to be obligatory.  Children should take care of their parents when they grow old because they want to, not because they think they have to. It should be out of love and not out of obligations.