Childhood and All That Remains

Childhood is like spilling your coffee onto your white polo shirt. No matter how hard you wash it out, still, there’s this discoloration that remains. My childhood feels like those stains from my old T-shirts. It gives me this surge of desiring exit but also a little bit of appreciation - though it hurts, though it kills. Growing up, I was never sure which one could be counted as my favorite, or perhaps, there is no such thing as favorites, and people are just being too irrational and sentimental. But was it the one where I picked out flowers with my friends? Was it when I sang my heart out while walking with my dogs? Was it the moment that I fought with my cousin and my mother got angry at me? Was it every Christmas or holiday because I could finally see my father and indulge myself in all the presents he got me? Was it when I was always at the top of my class and felt like the smartest person in the room? Or was it when I found new friends in the unfamiliar city we moved into? I couldn’t pinpoint it. Vivid memories never really remained in me, except the feeling I felt for every snippet I could remember. But one thing I know for sure is that I want it all gone, perhaps most of them. Why? Think of someone putting a gun to your head and anytime soon bullets would come out from its muzzle inducing a hole in your defenseless skull. Those bullets are my childhood memories - a noise, a threat, the one that is piercing every bone in your body. It is insane that more than relief and gratefulness, I could feel disgust and suppressed rage for everyone in my hometown. I want to be free from the torment of my past and let them go into the abyss right where they belong. How selfish I could be to not find pleasure in all these abstractions of people, time, places, and events? I am indeed selfish to the point that I do not want to go home anymore. I am an angry soul covered with decent flesh, only good at building walls and burning bridges to protect myself. And I think it is only fair to give myself some security and comfort after years of being naïve to the hell of an environment I grew up in. I bet I deserve that. I am convinced that I deserve a home that is also far away from home.