Dude... you make me sad that you are Filipino.
I was born in Angeles City, Philippines.
If it wasn't for the U.S. Military, my life would be drastically different.
I didn't own a pair of new shoes until I was 4.
By 5 I was living in California having birthday parties in a neighborhood light years away from where I originated.
I was learning multiplication in Kindergarten. Playing Oregon Trail and Number Munchers on the computer.
I was catching dragonflies in the endless tall grass in my friends backyard, then going off to pick blackberries with him and his dad so his mom could make fresh baked pies.
Do you understand how idyllic that life is compared to the situation I was born into...
What would I have been doing had I stayed in the Philippines?
Running around being a street urchin trying to steal wallets or sell cigarettes for money?
Diving into the ocean so I could push rocks out to sell them for a quarter?
My earliest memory was being unable to open my eyes because they were so crusted over from being sick.
Medicine was so expensive my mom resorted taking me to a Witch Doctor.
I love my Filipino heritage. I'm thankful that my formative years were spent there, I will always see the world differently than you snot nosed POS.
But there isn't a time now as a grown man that I don't realize how incredible fortunate I was.
A long time ago my mother made a choice, for herself and young son, to leave her homeland, for the chance at a better future.
For a 100 pound woman in a developing country, with nothing but an 8th grade education, what sort of life could she make for us?
I'm a Filipino-American and one day I'm going to write about what that truly means.
It always made me proud growing up, moving every few you years as an Air Force kid, that when I told people I was Filipino, they would smile and say "Oh I had a friend that was Filipino, he was really cool..."
Your small thinking and juveniles ideas and communication make me hope you never tell anyone what you are besides a fool.