On Being Nineteen
by: Mahinhin
It was a sunny day, first of March. As my eyes open its door, I was greeted by the swirling trees of lansones in the upper right portion of my window. The sky above is too blue, a crystal clear blue, if it is a mirror I might see my zombie apocalypse version. Maya birds are chirping, giving me the morning melody, and in a glance on the hanging plant on the upper left portion of my window I saw the maya bird's nest on the edge of our roof, and I thought maybe I can check it later, eggs might be waiting, it is a very good subject for pictures and essay writing. Not in a moment after I saw the bloom of gummamela in our backyard, I felt my stomach's butterfly flying or maybe t'was my stomach's worm wriggling but it's no important thing at all for I heard my mom's voice, shouting my ever beloved nickname to wake up for it's already twelve noon— I must say my mom is an over individual in this planet, exaggerating things or event is her habit. And why am I typing this non-fiction creative writing? Ah! The title says "On Being Nineteen", I am reminiscing the first day of March for it was the day I started writing pieces for my upcoming birthday. Since twenty-twenty one appeared in the calendar I am fancing of how can I turn my nineteen years of existence a productive one. And holloa! I am so engrossed of signs that I even make it as a lucky charm.
As I turned nineteen on the nineteenth day of March, never ever in my wildest dream that I perceived a cake in front of me without me paying for that cake. Maybe I am am imaginative individual but my imaginations were always on my room of imagination-- writing, so yeah, you read it right I always imagine but look, the cake from Carlo's Bakeshop whom I always find yummy was right there in front of me on my birthday. The cake, the coke, the ice cream, the carbonara, and of course the gin was in the table. I will always be grateful for the persons behind the simple-surprise for me.
In addition to this, as a Roman Catholic I completed the novena for the Feast of the Saint whose name was revised a little for me. Imagine how I need to pull my sanity at five a.m. so just I can come on the church right on time-- it was a vain for me, I am not used of waking as early as that, even though classes are normal. And yet, as what the first sentence of this paragraph says, I completed it. My day is Friday, under the lent season, when I thought that I should be fasting and not eating meats I was surprised by the sudden announcement that it's a Feast day so the day survived. I was glad though it's so gloomy that very morning. Well, it was also declared by the Vatican that it's my Saint's Holy Year, I am honored.
On being nineteen, this girl typing this essay did something incredible for herself, writing a nineteen pieces, waking at five a.m. for ten consecutive days, and being thankful. She never thought nineteen–– her last year of teen age years though under the on-going Pandemic made her grow up so fast, by mind.
"𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘤 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘩. 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘮 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘥𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮."
crdts to the photo i used from Pinterest.
