What About Me?


You might think I just an “aspiring” writer “trying” to get “attention” over the net for quite some time. Or I have been living in a modest apartment or living in a house in the city and have a high paid job like “anyone else.” Don’t get me wrong, all I wanted ever since I set foot into this country of yours were getting a piece of the so-called American Dream, but the facts are very cruel than fantasies that people and relatives told me over the years of how America can make millionaires from poor people just by “working” hard and sacrifice. But after 11 years, do you think I achieved it at least? The answer is simple, NO! Not even 5%, not even scraps.

For me, the American Dream is a false statement of a bad advertising that there’s no money back. Some people achieved it, but many like me become losing more than life itself and it comes to a decision to let it all go and walk away, go back to where they came from and start all over again with different outlook. My dream was to get the job that I graduated from, which I sadly did twice, the rest were odd jobs, from working in a fast food, to housekeeper, to Dietary Aid. I have been dealt with hour changing, hour cuts, lay offs, voluntary quits during my 11 years. The longest unemployment were 6 months. I cried silently when my paycheck wasn’t good, angry when someone doesn’t show up to work and I have to cover the slack. Disappointed when I’m stuck in limbo and can’t get ahead in life and don’t know where to go.

I just wonder where’s my turn? Sometimes I wish I could find a envelope with money in it on the floor unclaimed, or someone giving me a car or a house for free, maybe even a paid wedding. Or better yet, being an assistant to some rich snob, or being a manager in some business or win the lotto. I read news like that, and sometimes it infuriates me, the fact that they have their happy endings to their “suffering” that I felt that they don’t deserve to be happy, because I never felt happy.

Before you put judgement on my words, I will say this, I didn’t have a happy childhood, adolescence and yes I don’t have a happy adulthood. I never been to a concert, I never been on a real vacation. I never had traveled. Why? Because I don’t have the money for it. Living paycheck to paycheck is better than nothing, I say everyday. That I have to be “grateful” I’m here this far. That I have to work hard that perhaps and maybe I could go to the next level. But it all felt short as soon as I wake up and work like I don’t have a say in it. It’s like that every day. Just smile and deal with customers, clean stuff, make food. And I’m getting envy at all the rich snobs out there. I just wonder why not me? What I did wrong that all my dreams, plans were shattered in a matter of seconds? Do it has to be with race? Do it has to be with my accent? Do it has to be with my background? I planned, calculated, scheduled and yet it failed miserably. Starting at point one many times never been so merrier.

When would be the day that I would be rewarded for something good. I always do good stuff for people, even strangers and I don’t say it out loud. Or the day that I would say, ok, where should I go today, to Japan or New York, this weekend? Instead, I just say “I have to work”. Pretending to enjoying life isn’t the same as actually feeling the enjoyment of life. So, why am I here for? What is my purpose in life and all that mumbo jumbo that comes with it. 11 years surviving and failing isn’t the same as 11 years conquering and celebrating. When my break will start? When my miracle will occur?

When all these good things that I read on the news will happen to me? Should I have to be “grateful” for what little I have?

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