Say something

To those who know me, they know that I talk a lot. I talk a lot and I walk the talk. Although sometimes, what I want to really say isn’t what comes out of my mouth. I edit, filter and rethink before I say anything. I analyze, over analyze and rummage through my accrued vocabulary for better words. Hilariously ironic, I know. My occupation requires me to do this. Unfortunately, it sometimes seeps through my real life and I’m starting to see myself filter and filter more. I’m not saying what I really want to say. I don’t say it because I fear that it may not be heard or it may not be received the way I intended it to. So, I tellĀ  myself not to say anything.

This is the generation of saying something. This is the generation that has means to be heard and has the opportunity to be heard – youtube, twitter, facebook, instagram, hell even tumblr is there. Limitless means to be heard, limitless opportunities to say something. This was what the older generations worked for. The older generations know and understand how it is to be silenced. My generation was the first ones to experience speaking up. I was told to speak up and be opinionated even if there were people who didn’t want to hear it or just plain thought I shouldn’t be speaking up.

However, this is also the generation of easily bruised egos. This is the generation that takes a whole sack of salt to statements that they haven’t verified themselves. This is the generation that dishes out insults and criticisms but can’t seem to take it. Then again, this is a country that still has a law against offending religious feelings.

Reading what’s going on in this country, in this planet is enough to drive a person to depression. It’s enough to cause a person to just give up. I don’t mean give up in the literal sense and take an express ticket to the other world. I mean give up being nice; give up on the faint dream that the world could change for the better; give up on just giving a flying fuck. I shut up and stay silent.

I look at my children and I feel a sense of guilt that I’ve brought them in this world without their consent and have given them a really crappy world to live in. I also feel such a huge responsibility to ensure that I do my part in trying to make it a better place for them. So, that pushes me to not give up and fight the wave of negativity.

I won’t give up on trying to be nice. Operative word is “try”. I won’t give up on hoping that there is a sliver of a chance that the world is still full of honest and good people. I won’t give up on trying to make a difference.

Making a difference means speaking up – saying something. My parents and grandparents worked too hard in making sure that I be heard. So, this is what I have to say:

It surely is a fucked up world out there but while we are in it, we can make it less fucked up by not being a total asshole.

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