Don't let it linger

"You can entertain the thought, but don't let it linger."

That’s what I learned from my sister. But at twelve years old, it was nearly impossible not to let the thoughts linger. Maybe it was because I was young, believing that the world—though vast—could be conquered by an energetic mind like mine. I thought I had all the time to scoop up everything exciting in life and dump it into my brain. I truly believed I could do it. Phew, I was wrong.

Now, looking back, I realize how my childish arrogance cost me so many opportunities. How could I have been so foolish to think my "used-to-be present" would last forever? My mind shut down from reality—it lingered and fantasized. I lost sight of what was real. I got stuck and became a stuck-up. I tried to mask my loneliness with the wrong distractions, consumed by petty things—things that never truly mattered as I grew older. I built a senseless and shallow personality, one that left me with guilt and countless regrets.

I still remember how lost I was. I had no one to turn to. I didn’t even know how to talk about my feelings. No one asked. I was so focused on my loneliness that even having seven siblings couldn’t cut it—I knew in my heart they could never help me out. Being lonely is hard. I still feel it now, even as an adult, and it still hurts. So imagine a twelve-year-old mind trying to deal with it. A young mind that could easily find reasons to rebel over the smallest things.

I had no idea why I did what I did. If only someone had knocked sense into me—instead of blaming me, mocking me, or insulting me. I was young and annoying; I understand that. But I wish I had an adult who talked to me, guided me, showed me something different. If I had that one sensible conversation, I know things would have been better. Instead, I grew up in a family filled with hate, jealousy, and selfishness.

If only real love existed in my family, maybe things would have been different. But I will never know, will I?

I started drinking alcohol when I was twelve. It was the only thing that kept me going every day. I still remember how I managed to do it.

In my country, back then, a child was just a "little person"—someone who ate, slept, played, and ran around. Adults never thought that behind those tiny minds were electrical spikes firing off knowledge and experiences. They didn’t realize that children understood more than they thought.

My parents' house was surrounded by little convenience shops found on every street corner. At that time, it wasn’t uncommon for adults to send children to buy alcohol. Store owners didn’t care if a child was the one making the purchase. After all, a child was just a child.

That window of opportunity sent an electric jolt through my brain, firing up every neuron that recognized a chance worth taking—and oh, did it linger.


Page 2

-to be continued-

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