Every artist's dream

"Beautiful dreamer,
Wake unto me
Starlight and dewdrops
Are awaiting thee

Sounds of the rude world
Heard in the day
Led by the moonlight
Have all passed away

Beautiful dreamer,
Queen of my song"

The radio was on, and that beautiful song occupied the room. I was smiling, humming while striking a stroke using my favorite paintbrush.  I closed my eyes to feel the music and just continue to strike a stroke. It was relaxing. It was great. I can feel me, I can feel myself, I can feel my soul.

I continued what I was doing when suddenly I heard a loud "Bang"; someone opened the door. It feels like I cannot hear the music anymore. It feels like a slow-motion. I feel like I cannot move. I feel like...

"Josefa! What is this again?" That was my father. He was so angry seeing me with paints in my face. "Your life is as messy as this room! You are totally a mess!" He shouted angrily. "It is not messy dad. It's colorful. It's full of life and art. It's beautiful" My mind answered but my mouth was shut. I just bowed  down to show that I was sorry. "I already told you to stop this bullshit Josefa! You don't belong here. You have a great future ahead. You must not just let yourself be imprisoned in this very messy room! Fix yourself and we're heading home!" He added. I just nod and followed what he said. I didn't cry out loud but a tear fell down. I just smile sarcastically and told myself "Well! You have nothing to do with it Josefa." Then I sighed.

We were already heading home, and no one dared to open a conversation. I know he's still mad and I must not dare to open my mouth or else I'll die. The moment we arrived, I saw my mom. I can see that she knew what dad knew. I gave her a weak smile. "You're home!" she exclaimed. "I'm back mom but this ain't my home" that's what I wanna tell her but I know, I am not allowed to say anything. I walked straight to my room, when she added "Josefa, parent knows best! We know what's best for you". I nodded but deep inside me, all I wanna say is that "You know what's best for me, but you don't know what can make me happy."

Maybe just like any teens of my age, with Filipino culture, I obeyed my parents. I did what they want me to do. I went to college and did my best to give them the pride that they want. Until the day I've been waiting for. It was our graduation. Oh by the way, I was an Engineering student back then, so having that cum laude title was kinda a struggle, but guess what. I did it. Yes I was able to give my parents what they want. I saw how happy and proud my father was. And I feel like, maybe it's the time that I can tell papa that I want to pursue the things that I really want; painting.

The graduation rites ended and we were taking photos when papa said "So you'll be having your review in (name of the review school). I heard they produce a lot of topnotchers. You'll surely be one soon" The courage I had a while ago of telling him that I wanna go painting again suddenly get lost. I just nod in response. I took my review classes and was able to hit the target! Yes, I placed 2nd in our licensure exam. I was so happy. I was like " finally, this is really my time to go after my dream. I'm done with their dreams for me. I'm free" I cried of happiness, because I know I'll be free so soon.

Mama and Papa were so happy. They even brag to their friends that they already have an engineer and that I placed 2nd out of around 20,000 takers. Seeing their smiles made me smile too. It's kinda fulfilling. But I really feel like there's really something in me that cannot be filled by all the achievements I have. So I talked to my father. I told him I wanna go to an art school In Italy and improve my passion in Painting. "Are you crazy Josefa? After all of these, you're still thinking about that piece of crap? You are not a good painter. And you'll never be. You are destined to be an engineer. Don't you understand it?"  And there, I realized, no matter what I do, it cannot bring me closer to my dream.

So what I did, I just followed papa. He told me I was born to be an engineer, so be it. I started receiving calls from different companies, and it's my choice to choose where I want to be. "You should be in (Name of the company). The salary is beyond expectation  and they are the #1 most trusted in their field." He again exclaimed. I actually don't know what company to choose because I really don't see myself working in any of those. I really thought I'd be in art school. But nevermind, so I accepted the offer of that company.

I worked in there for a year and a half. It was fun but truly exhausting. I got sick a lot of times but not allowed to absent nor file a leave. It was truly a work-work situation. Until 1 day, I filed a resignation letter. Then the moment I arrived home, I told my parents about my decision. "What the hell are you thinking? You are already part of the elite engineers. You are on the top and you are the best! And now you wanna just go back to basic? Unbelievable Josefa! You are truly an idiot!" That hit me hard. I cried in front of them. I wanna tell them that the job I was in was not the typical job they thought I have. I wanna tell them that I feel like my body was so abused and that I really needed a rest. I wanna tell them that I am not happy. I want to. But I can't. 

23. 23 years of existence, slavery rather. Yes 23 years of saying yes to everything he wants. 23 years of giving up my dream coz they believed that I wasn't born for it. 23 years of faking smiles, laughters, happiness. 23 years of obeying coz as they say "Honor thy mother and father". Honor. Honor them.

Each day, I tried to forget painting. I tried to hate it.  I threw all my painting stuff, all those I considered my "masterpieces". Everything. That colorful, bright and happy-place kind of room, turned into a gloomy, dark and lifeless one.  I used to love to  open the curtains and let sunlight enter my room. Iused to paint the sky, the moon and the stars. But that's all just part of my past.  I changed. A lot.

That kind and soft hearted girl they raised, turned into a monster. Yes, I became someone who wanted perfection in everything. I started raising voices to everyone; staffs, drivers, strangers and even to my parents. I  learned to roll my eyes to show disagreement. I learned to lie about simple things. I learned to be that someone, everyone's afraid of.

Little by little, I didn't realize, I turned into someone I hated so much. My papa. That someone who deprived me from everything that makes me happy, that someone who told me I wasnt great enough, that someone who made me feel so little about myself.

I didn't realize that I already made other people feel what I felt before. All the criticisms, all the hurtful words, all the pain. I made them feel what my papa made me feel. I wanted them to excel, I wanted them to be great ; no matter what it takes. I didn't accept excuses, I wanted results.

Until one day, while I was sitting in our veranda, having coffee with my eyebrows raised  while facing my laptop, my mama approached me. "Seems so busy, my daughter" she started. "Really? Seems like normal for me" I answered. Then silence filled the place. I was facing my laptop, but I cannot concentrate. "I am not used it, why is she even here?"  that's what's inside my head. To break the silence, I started hitting the keyboard of my laptop. I pretended that I was typing, I hit every letter of the keyboard loudly. "Are you enjoying your job, Josefa?" she asked with a soft tone. I stopped hitting the keyboard, closed my eyes, calmed my self and "Yes" I answered. Where in fact, I didn't.  When she asked me that, I really wanted to say No. I really wanted to cry and ask her to please let me free. I wanted to hug her tight and tell her that I don't want this life anymore. I wanted to, but I know I shouldnt, so I didn't.

She was heading back to the kitchen, when she said the words that broke my heart. "I'm sorry baby" she said. Then I heard her sob. I cannot see her face because she's facing the other direction, but I know she cried. I was trying to hold my emotions and didn't  dare to mind her. I pretended that I didn't hear what she said. She headed back to the kitchen and left me alone in the veranda. I felt bad but I tried to show that I was fine.

Years passed, and I just became even more scarier. I was feared by all. And no one can control me anymore. Not even papa...

Then my 29th birthday came. I hated celebrations, I hated people, I hated surprises. But that day, as I woke up and headed to the kitchen for breakfast, I saw a note saying "I'm sorry my child. I just wanted the best for you. But I actually don't know what you wanted. You are now 29. May you enjoy your day." Tears fell down, I know it was from papa. I know his handwriting so much.  It was the first time I ever felt like I have a father.

But that day was still normal for me. Except that, I was just a little bit in a mood. I was kinda kind I think. I didn't raise my voice to anyone that day. The aura was kinda chill and I felt like my heart was kinda light. Maybe it's just that, I've been waiting for that message from him since then. Maybe that was all that I needed.

When I arrived home, again, I headed directly to the kitchen (yes kitchen. Why? Do u have any problem). Instead of seeing foods, I saw my papa. Which was kinda  new to me, coz u know, we rarely see each other even if we were staying at the same house. "Happy Birthday my baby girl" he mumbled. I froze! I can't say a word. I remembered the day when he caught me in my apartment with all my paintings and stuff. Same feeling. "I'm sorry" he added. My tears started running down my face. "I just love you so much that I wanted the best for you. But maybe I was too much. That I even forgot to paint a smile in your face. That I even gave you too much burden in your heart. I'm sorry that in wanting to give you the best, I turned to be the worst person you'll ever met... " I didn't make him finish what he wanted to say. I ran unto him and hugged him so tight. I cried out loud that I forgot that I was 29 already. I felt like a kid  missing her dad so much.

Me and my papa were in a very dramatic scene when my mama came in. "Can I join you" she asked with a smile and tearful eyes. I wasn't able to say yes, but I nodded. They hugged me tight, that I felt like all the broken pieces of my heart was formed again. "I'm sorry that I wasn't able to fight for you and your dreams, I am sorry that I cannot fight against your papa's decisions for you " mama said. I cannot utter a word anymore. I was just crying and sobbing.

"Hey enough! I have something for u. Come with me" papa said. We went upstairs and he opened the door of their room. Since then I am not allowed to get inside here. This would be my first time. The lights were off, and mama is hugging me from behind. Then papa turned on the lights. And to my surprise, my paintings filled the walls of their room. From that simple painting I made in a bond paper to that extravagant masterpieces, I cried in awe.

"Remember the day you threw it all? I asked your mom to hung all of these here. Because it represented you. It represented your soul. All of these are beautiful but I was afraid that your passion won't  make you successful. I was afraid of so many things for you. I intervene too much in your life that you forgot how to live it. "

"Choose now not to be the best but the happiest, my child."

And that day, may not be the best, but the  happiest...