[2] I want to live in a tulip

[inked on january 10, 2023]

I was never fond of Thumbelina as a kid, I barely knew the story. I was more versed with Tinkerbell and her friends. Many times, at the beach, I pretended to be Silvermist, the blue-haired one who surfs. Still, I believe[d] in fairies; of creatures beyond the physical realm, hidden in plain sight yet breezing through a life unbeknown to humans. I like to think we share with them the Earth, that we are never alone. Perhaps it is my rural roots speaking, that part of why I wish we all live in harmony with nature because there are those above and beyond us who we are hurting that we do not know of.

I want[ed] to become a fairy, a princess of the elven kingdom. I remember watching a short film where the protagonist was abducted by the prince of the other world because he liked her so much that he offered to become her princess. A feast was presented before her. I remember elderlies in our neighborhood saying that if creatures of the other world offer you food, you should never consume any of it, for you can never go back to the “physical” world. You will be stuck there forever, especially when you eat black rice. But the protagonist in the film lived in poverty and had barely eaten, and so the feast was a test. Should she fill her guts or go back to Earth, a place where she still is hungry? One can never blame her should she choose to indulge. Honestly, at this point, if I were brought into this other world, I would most likely stay there and enjoy the feast.

The world as it is now, as I am living it, is filled with chaos and uncertainty that not a day goes by where I wished things were different. I wish to romanticize life where I wake inside blooming petals, wander around orchards, and sprinkle my fairy dusts to keep the Earth alive. I want a morning unfilled with woe. I love hearing birds chirp as soon as I open my eyes, and the sun painted on my windowsill, but sometimes I feel like there is something out there I am not seeing. I wish to explore, to see more of what the Earth has to offer before it all vanishes.

Humans are self-destructive. They say they love one thing yet do everything in their strength to annihilate it. They call the Earth “mother” as if she has not wept for centuries because of their selfish doing. Humans are afraid of death yet do nothing to make living worth being. Everything is being destroyed. A human touch crumbles everything it brushes. Even the ones they love most—especially the ones they love most.

Perhaps, if I am a fairy embracing each day from my floral abode, life would get better. But I am human, enclosed in a narrow space made of concrete—a prisoner of thoughts and nightmares. Why can’t there ever be a day where I can be completely, truly happy without the world ruining it for me? If I was in another realm, I think I would treasure each happiness without fear as if an impending doom is forthcoming. But I am not, and it is beyond imaginable thought that living in a tulip becomes reality.

I may be a dreamer, but even I know dreams are not grounded. I still must face reality. As if a magnet to pull me back, I heard the neighbor’s chatter. My back aches. My heart is heavy. I yearn. Human living sucks. How does it feel to have someone crave your presence and have their fear of losing you be greater than the fear of not being with you at all? The world is so cruel that believing people can change is a losing bet. Yet I refuse to be a prisoner of that thought—no matter how many times I get hurt.

But I guess dreamers never win, do they? Because look at me now, alone in my room, with no one to talk to, waiting for a message, wishing to become a mythical creature to cave from the pain of being broken.

I hope tomorrow I wake up in a petal. And that instead, reality was a dream.