We Did, What We Needed to Survive

By Owen Dane L. Rosco

12 STEM Hadji Omar

Since I was ten years old, I have always hated babies. They are obnoxious, exigent, and frail.
And when you're tasked with holding one, it feels like the future of humanity is seated upon your
shoulders. One misstep and everything could crumble. But as I transcend into adolescents, maybe
it's not directly the babies that I hate, but the idea that these fragile little creatures make up a large
proportion of humanity's hope and fate. And the only reason I despise them, is that they remind me
of myself – vulnerable but responsible for the future.
The only thing worse than being a mistake child is somehow not being called one. I was six
years old when I put two and two together and realized my parents' miscalculation. And yet when
I'm around, it feels like they're walking on eggshells trying to avoid the elephant in the room. There
was no sign of hostility in them, but it felt lonely. Since I was the first, I never really had any cousin
my age to talk to, only adults and adults. And maybe that's where my principles and beliefs
stemmed from, "Wouldn’t it be pathetic if a mistake made more mistakes?" Since then, my stoic and
bland seriousness replaced my happy-go-lucky side.
Being surrounded by many adults gave me a brief insight into the adult world. It boils down
to responsibilities and consequences. Despite that, I wasn't necessarily mature all the time – and I
am more than aware of it. Although I was deeply analytical, curious, and sharp, I never understood
why people talk about questionable choices of other people behind their backs. So when I
discovered the internet, it felt like home. I was able to ask anything I wanted.
The internet introduced me to a lot of people. And although it was a one-way conversation,
for the first time, I wasn't lonely. The drawback is that I started to isolate myself. I didn't see the
point of social interaction, and it only got worse during the pandemic. I became socially awkward,
and the internet introduced me to unpopular concepts for traditional people, such as atheism and
existentialism. And at some point, I imagined doing a genocide.
But then, they are only notions. And thoughts and actions are separate. They are different
and distinct. Everybody has evil thoughts, and people don't realize that bottling these thoughts, and
rejecting them, is far more destructive than accepting them and not doing them. After a long time, if
they remained bottled, at some point, we might do it. And instead of controlling these thoughts –
they are controlling us.
As I reflect, I realize that my qualities are bland at best and somewhat monotonous by
traditional standards. But that's because it was the best tool I needed to use to survive in my past
environment. And the title of being a mistake child is now trivial to me. The past is almost
irrelevant, and the only thing that matters is now – the present. Now that I'm entering a new
domain, I must alter and improve myself if I want to achieve greatness. And although everyone
always has something to say, I always remind myself of this one quote by Thomas Harris in
Hannibal, "The worm that destroys you is the temptation to agree with your critics, to get their
approval."