I used to despise my neighbors. Their chatter is too loud.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their radio never shuts up.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their baby is a midnight alarm clock.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their gossips are unspeakably wrong.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their looks on me makes me feel like scum.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their fake smile hides all kinds of snide comments.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their issues aren’t issues–at all. But they whine about it anyways.
I used to despise my neighbors. Their ignorant stares are too much to take.
I used to despise my neighbors. Funny because, I used to love them too.
I used to despise my neighbors, as a matter of fact, I think I still do. And that’s because of the reasons even I myself can’t tell. Maybe it’s between one of those issues you yourself and your fellow teenager neighbor got onto, or maybe those films that really got into me about the clichés of you and your fellow not having a great past thus building a not-so good relationship, or maybe the feeling of insecurity upon seeing the bond their family has, given their circumstances. You see, one of the families in this neighborhood of ours isn’t rich. Not saying that our family is but I am to tell that we are a little bit higher than them when it comes to wealth. They live in a house– actually only a part of the house they live in, because almost half of it is inhabitable due to the previous storm that happened, splitting the roof from its walls, and they hadn’t heard the last of it– and it looked like a nipa hut, the father works real hard, one racket after another, sometimes two or three at the same time, while the mother is a housewife and sometimes do dry cleaning for a job, the three older siblings stopped studying after graduating high school because of financial problems, and also because one of them got pregnant and his former boyfriend/lover ran away after upon hearing about the shocking news, and the girl never knew of his whereabouts ever again, while the fourth child is still in high school and the youngest is in elementary. In their family I saw the movie cliché come to life, desperate family living together, crossing the wild waves of challenges on the rivers of life that fate made for them. If I was with them I would’ve asked myself a dozen times if I had a debt in fate or circumstance, or maybe even on both, because the life I have been living shouldn’t even be considered one, in fact, I have been in hell all along. But this is what’s insecuring about them: they NEVER separated. They never “split ways”, or “fell out”, or “grew apart”, as they say. If one thing they made sure while they are crossing this river they got themselves into, is that no man is left behind. Overrated as the statement may be, but when it comes to them, it’s no joke. It’s all or nothing. No matter how many times one of them messes up, all the others are there for that particular person. And for that, I will always look at our neighborhood as the best one and you’d surely wish to have them as yours.