So, in a few days, I turn 19 years old. A year older than 18, which I'm not sure means I'm an adult or not. The whole point of this, I guess, is to say that I wish I didn't make it this far. I don't think I'll make it out there in the real world. I'm to dependent of others and it disgusts me. I know I'm not moving out or anything YET, but when the time comes, I don't think I'll be completely happy, even though I would love to move out this second so I can punch my walls without worrying about what others think.

I don't like moving. I don't like dramatic change. I don't like being by myself. I don't like not knowing anyone. I don't like being the precedent of my life. I wish there was someone else before me that I can trust and just do what he did to get started. Unfortunately, I'm not. I don't have anyone like that. And what the hell am I gonna do for a career.

My mom walked into my room when I finished my last drawing/coloring/personal project and she started talking about my future. She looked at how messy my room was, colored pencils and markers all over the floor, text books in piles, dirty clothes in a stack, and paper everywhere. She said that she would support anything that would make me happy. Right then I thought of at least two things she wouldn't support me with. I would say it but if you know well me enough, you might be able to figure out one of them.

I know they were just empty words, but I can't help but believe and follow her words. She then recommended jobs in nursing involving surgeory or CATlab or something, urging me to seek work in those professions. I now know that I don't want to be anything medical, but at the same time I do. I would rather just have the knowledge and be an artist. One of my goals last year in anatomy was to learn how to dislocate an arm from the shoulder and to pop it back in, thus leaving the victim with a sprained arm/shoulder. I didn't. I can't even decided my own life decisions. Just more to fear for the future.

Happy holidays to those who see this. And to those who don't, I wish you happiness anyway.... unless I'm mad at you right now.

I wish my older brother didn't die. I'm not a leader or a good role model. I don't want that burden on me. I wish I had a role model that I could be close to. An older brother to call Kuya and get advice from. To be a connection for when I needed something. Someone older and in the same generation that I could really talk to. I have cousins but they're not around like a brother would be.

Kuya Paul would tell me what's cool ahead of time. I would hangout with him and I'd have older friends from his grade. Learn to be social and make friends. He would tell me when I was being wierd or loser-like so I could avoid looking stupid. He would have been the one to pick me up after clubs in high school when everyone was too busy and I couldn't drive yet, and I wouldn't have had to wait so long outside of the school alone.

Kuya Paul, I wish I could have met you. When you died, mom went temporarily crazy. Dad was so sad, they didn't know what to do but have another child. A replacement. Me.

When mom reverted back to normal, she told herself that you weren't for her, for us. God made a mistake and took you back. But I can't help feel that you were taken wrongfully. You were ours. I need you.

Mom and Dad don't like to talk about you much. I want to ask questions but what's there to ask? The only thing they know is your birth/death day. That's it. They didn't even know you at all. You died in such a short amount of time. Yet, I want to know you so badly. Are you like me? Would you have been a good influence on me? Would I have turned out differently?
I can only imagine what could have happened during my childhood if you were here. I wouldn't have been the only boy and isolated due to my gender. I would have had you.

I guess this is why for some of my guy friends, I sometimes build attachments. I'm looking for someone to take your place in what could have been. That's why I always act inferior in my groups of friends. Always asking condescending questions. Being childish. Looking for someone to scold and praise me. Someone who can always be there.

You didn't go completely forgotten. The last Liwanag child in this mediate family's name is Paulo. Are you really paulo? God made a mistake, took you back, and realized that you were supposed to be with us so he sent you back? I don't know. I could never picture Paulo as my older brother. If I was younger than him, would he have been a cool big brother? Katrina and I influenced him too much to see what he would have done on his own so we'll never know.

I want to know what could have happened. I found someone who I targetted as a some-what older brother, but I don't know what it is now. Did I develop some kind of crush on this person?