Rush

Just yesterday I finally noticed the thing that I always taken for granted. It’s the thing that I blame to my father’s gene whenever it becomes the center of mockery among my friends and family members. But sometimes it’s also the thing that made a description of the feeling of standing ten-feet-taller-than-the-others.

During my college years my mum had accused all the synthetic products that I lathered into my body. She would usually do the comparison of my look between my grade school and college years, and she was eternally on dismay about the not so cool change. But during those times I thought of it as part of growing up and never got bothered about it. There were instances that I looked into the mirror and frowned a little, but not as serious as my mum’s disappointment. But as years had passed by, my mum had also stopped endorsing me to her special concoctions. I guess she got tired of instilling my perverse mind with the ancient remedy or she was able to adapt with my growing up façade.

I remember her telling me, “ anak, dati butterfly pa nga style ng buhok mo eh, bakit ngayon ganyan na?”

Alright, it’s about my receding hairline. In short I’m getting more “panot”. I sometimes blame it to the flakes on my scalp and sometimes I guess because of being so stubborn of not following my mum’s advice – stop using a lot of shampoo. But I know that it’s in my blood line. Now, I usually go to work with unkempt hair and my colleagues would usually say, “mahangin ba sa labas?” So, I’m worrying now about my look, on how my future dates would give an impression with my age and look. Though I’m overly saturated with the comments that I look older with my actual age, still the terror of hearing it from my prospects is a different kind of discredit to my pogi points.

But more to these sublime narcissistic reasons is the fact that I am getting older than my actual age. And some realizations in life - It’s hard to be a grownup.