Jellyace Comes Back to Haunt Me

jellyaceIt’s the third week of March once again.

It has been fifteen years since I graduated kindergarten. And I am here standing at the product shelves of a grocery store, staring blankly at the jelly candies in front of me. I thought of buying a dozen as part of my dinner-dessert routine.

Isn’t it nostalgic~ staring at something that is part of your childhood? Well, I realized that I am forgetting a lot of things. (And when I say a lot of things–I really mean it.) Because I cannot remember  stuff about my kindergarten days. From my teacher’s name to the rules in one of the board games I used to play. I can’t help it. The years grew weary and I wanted to expedite my “growing up” process mainly because I want to experience high school. I wanted to reach ‘my’ teen years. I wanted to be an adult.  

But one day, I woke up and found out that the world had sunk in oblivion. High school came in a flash. Then, I finished my university program. Before I knew it, I was promoted at work. And in an instant, it has been 15 years since I graduated kindergarten.

Time may have been a bit cruel.  Still, I am happy. Why? Because I am living my life. I would enjoy a movie once in a while. Would often stare at the Moon while I watch the clouds hide the stars’ luminosity. Would always walk my dog early in the morning–All in all, I am doing okay. Or so I knew. Because awhile ago, my memory betrayed me by letting me remember my childhood moments~ all at once after its 15 years of passing.

Way back, there are only eight colors and there are rainbows after each rain. Everybody would play and everyone have their own lunchboxes full of stuff. I remember my teacher reading fairy tales in front of the class–stories about a prince, a princess, and their castle.

But my trip to remembering did not stop there.

I still remember lucidly about this girl classmate of mine who favored me to open her jelly candy. She pleaded me in her sweet voice–I became annoyed and told her I couldn’t open it. But I knew that if I tried harder, I can break open the darn candy. And so my girl classmate looked for someone who will. It’s as if she was searching for the right prince who can open the magical jelly candy that she was holding in her hands. And as she walked away from me, she was, no doubt, stunning and ethereal. The search did not take long when she approached another guy classmate who was able to open the jelly candy for her.

That was the first day my teacher read the Cinderella story in front of the class.

Next day came and I excite myself for our class’ break time. My girl classmate brought again some jelly and she approached the same guy classmate whom she asked to open the jellyace for her yesterday. That was the exact moment that I realized I had fallen in love with the idea of falling in love. Staring at them makes me remember happy endings.

And I wished that they were meant for each other.

But summertime came fast approaching. I realized school days were over and goodbyes were uttered by everyone including my girl classmate bidding farewell to my guy classmate.


And now I welcome you to the present timeframe. I am eating jellies right this moment. Actually, I have forgotten what a jelly tastes like so I opened one. It still tastes the same though. You might be interested how life turns out. Yeah, I thought so, too. I thought my girl classmate is meant for my guy classmate–I am wrong. My girl classmate had her teen pregnancy. She was now happily married. My guy classmate horribly died in a heart attack. He is somewhere there, 6 feet underground.

So I am sharing these three things to the world.

(1) That time is our enemy. It ticks, it runs. It will leave us behind and no matter how harder we chase time, we will lose the race. (2) The battle of opening a jellyace is torturous. Not in the physical aspect sense. It is excruciating to open a kid’s candy realizing there’s no one you can share it to. (3) Lastly, grown ups forgets priceless things.

Superheroes Do Bleed and Retire

Three days passed my eighth birthday and whilst facing the wall, scriptures materialized. As I study the writings, it says: anyone who can read this is destined to do great things. As I commit to memory the scenario then, the idea appeared on the wall as if someone, some being, wrote them in a creepy manner. And as I remember, I was diagnosed by my mom having overwhelming imagination syndrome.

When I reached high school, life has been busy. The world becomes larger. Love becomes surreal. Saving the world is just as hard as solving a physics problem. And I failed my physics subject. I found out that humanity will exist even if I wasn’t actually born.

Days passed, I am firm that I just wanted to be a sidekick of a superhero. And if a superhero landed in front of me and offered me to be his assistant, I’d probably say yes– if he will compensate me of at least above minimum pay excluded overtime.

Time flies like an arrow. Fruit flies like a banana. No league of superheroes offered a sidekick position. I am just a normal human being walking the streets seeing faces of million normal human beings. And I am just like the others. Ordinary. Typical. Life bores me.

I planned my revenge, a dish served cold.

I created my own justice. I decided who to live and punished bad people. Well, I thought I was saving the world. I thought I am the good guy but it seems that I am on the wrong direction. And it simply shed a soft dusk, shadow in some small corner of my heart.

And the villain is born.

But every villain has one flaw. Because every villain has a conscience. But I wanted to be more evil-er. More monster-er. More darker. Just in the nick of time that this villain becomes super villain, a superhero, his dad, saved him.

And I realized I can’t save the world– but I can save one soul. And that is the moment that I wanted to become a father also. I wanted to raise a child and save someone just like what my dad did.