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Tuesday, May 18, 2010.
The Long, long post about my life. 4:05 PM I’m feeling really despondent now. I’m not caring what you’re going to say about me, neither do I care about my sister who might actually see this. I don’t even care if my Mom sees this. All I know is that I need an avenue to rant, to vent the bitterness in my soul. For all I care alright? Yes, while I’m typing this out, you are saying that you’re my stepmother. Whatever. I never said so. I firmly believe that you’re my Mum. I’m just not happy with my life. It’s okay. You don’t have to blame yourself. You can blame me. Put all the blame on me. I’m the world’s worst daughter in the world. Throw all your blame on me. This part is directed to my Mum. (Even though she doesn’t read my blog. ) I wanted to tell you straight in your face. But I cared about your feelings. I kept quiet. I said that you couldn’t solve this. Why did I say so? It’s so because you don’t have to scrimp and give more pocket money to me. You said I keep comparing myself to others, especially my friends. Don’t I have the right to do so? You adults keep comparing us to others. I never complained. Not even once. I gave a effin’ damn for your feelings. I kept quiet. I tried to forget it. I cried my heart out while no one in the house knows. Deep down, I feel so damn AWFUL. Still, I didn’t say anything. You may think that I said all this to make people pity me, and put myself in a better light. NO. N-O, no. I’m not trying to do so. I tried hard to give you the respect you deserved. Sometimes teens are rude for reasons like this. It’s annoying. I know. We all know. I want to avoid it. But it is difficult. Then I cry myself to sleep. I wake up tomorrow, I pretend nothing happened. I mentioned my own money problem to several close friends. People shun me because I keep borrowing money. I do feel embarrassed. But I didn’t want to force you to give me more money. Up till now, I still owe people money. Some a little, some quite a lot. I feared that you would reprimand me. Just now, you said that I treated you like an ATM and that I took more money from you than Kimberly (my sister) does. I am only trying to get the money I earned through holiday work from you. You insisted that you keep it because I’m a spendthrift. I KNOW THE ROOT OF THIS PROBLEM IS BECAUSE I’M A SPENDTHRIFT. I KNOW. I try to not spend too much already. But sometimes, when I go out, I don’t even dare to ask for money. Everyone knows I spend my time after school in the school library. So I usually buy my own lunch. The thing is, due to the morning rush, I forgot to bring my wallet. I borrowed $5 from friends, and stupidly spent it all. I asked my Mum to buy me lunch. I naively thought that I would still be given $5 tomorrow, plus the $5 I have in my wallet to return to my friends whom I borrowed money from. I thought since I seldom came back home from lunch, she’d leave it. What I never thought of was that she wanted reimbursement for the lunch because my sister does so. Mind you, she comes back for lunch every day. I don’t. In fact you saved much more because it’s a standard five bucks, and eating at home usually costs much more (from what you said). And for almost everything, the price has gone up. My pocket money hasn’t for six years. I haven’t complained yet. I hinted, but did nothing when you didn’t get it. Do you actually know how much everything costs these days? Let me calculate: A plate of rice from Uncle Tiong: $2.00 + Drinks $1.00=$3.00// That’s not counting breakfast. If I count, here it is: Chicken Burger: $1.10 + Drinks $1.00=$2.10// Total expenditure: $2.10 + $3.00 = $5.10// It’s not even enough. Sometimes I don’t drink. Which I probably shouldn’t. Look. I haven’t compared myself to others. I calculated the exact amount for you to see. So don’t complain, because it’s clear that I DO NOT HAVE ENOUGH BLOODY MONEY TO EVEN EAT, LET ALONE SAVE. Now that Jiamin gave me a piggy bank, I will have to. Which, according to her, it’s 20 cents every day. Next. You say that I keep using my room to myself, restricting my sister from using it. I need some privacy for goodness sake. Your organ has a room to itself, so why can’t I? If I were to split rooms, why can’t I use this room? Why she can? Why must I let her the room and share a room with your creepy organ? I haven’t complained about the aircon okay. I’m sleeping with a standing fan, which doesn’t oscillate because if it does, it will give you countless sleepless nights by groaning endlessly. I don’t know what to say. You sleep in an airconditioned room, you have nothing to complain about the room being bloody humid. Sure, you suffer from insomnia because of us. Don’t I? All of us do. Part Two is specially dedicated to my sister, Kimberly. Yes I know Mummy and Papa does not practice favouritism. Which I feel is very fortunate, but having a sibling is just hell. Not to mention having to share a room with you, I have to suffer from comparisons, which I know that you suffer from too. I know you’re really feminine, but the seemingly poisonous fumes of your nail polishes JUST IRK ME. It is disgusting. Every day you ask me if this is cute or not. YOU DO KNOW MY ANSWER DON’T YOU? It’s a straight-in-your-face, NO. Stop asking me if your nail designs are cute, because I prefer clean nails without any designs. I am a nerd, a geek and I do not need any nail polishing. I only need a weekly nail cutting session, which I can cope myself without your help, thank you. I also have to tell you that, no, I haven’t been stepping on your bed. I have tried all ways to avoid my foot on your bed. Stop dashing into the room suddenly saying that my feet was on your bed. And of course, I have my own bed, I have lied on it for the past few hours, not yours. It is you who actually keep sitting, stepping and sleeping on my bed without me knowing. And of course I have caught you red handed several times and you boldly denied. I’m not blind, dear sister. I even have an extra pair of eyes. Stop screaming at me saying that I did something to your precious bed. I did nothing. It should be me who should be screaming at you, but I only did that in exasperation. When you annoy me, I entertain you for a few moments, just so you know that you are existent. After that, I clench my fists, grit my teeth and repeatedly tell myself “Don’t do it, don’t do it, you’re stepping into her trap by beating her up or pinching her, whatever.” But as stupid as I am, I fell into your evil traps and then we both get a scolding. Is it so fun? No it isn’t. In fact it is really irksome, and it is infinitely irritating. I really prefer a life without quarrels. So shut up if you can. And of course after that Mummy gets angry, and everyone else is not happy because of your antics. Well, I have been through what you are experiencing. It’s called teenage angst. I know, I’ve been through it before. You flare up suddenly, but I try to avoid talking back at all costs. You don’t understand, do you? Grow up. Two years later, I hope you understand. Lastly, why do you have to fight over everything I want? I borrowed a laptop from Uncle, you keep fighting over it. We have a desktop computer, I’ve changed the RAM like 2 or 3 months ago, the only bloody problem is the off colour. What’s your problem? I don’t understand why you have to fight with me over everything. Of course, I asked for it, I WOULD OF COURSE TRY TO KEEP YOUR PIGGY HANDS AWAY FROM IT. But it’s different with adults. They think we should share, because SHARING is CARING. I beg to differ. Go away. It’s because of you that I have to share. It’s not that I don’t like you. It’s because the way you say ‘unfair’ over everything as if you’re liking every Facebook page. It’s not easy to live with you. But guess what? I still have to live with you. The last part is about my father. He definitely doesn’t even know I have a blog. STOP SMOKING. When you stop, your health gets better. Your pocket doesn’t have a big hole for money to drop out of. I know you try to save money by rolling your own cigarettes. NO, IT DOESN’T WORK THIS WAY. I don’t know how much your rolled cigarettes cost, but let’s say it costs about $6, and you buy it about twice a week: $6 x 8= $42 $42 x 12 =$504 And that’s like $504 saved per year! I know it’s much lesser compared to cigarettes, but hey, these tobaccos are like worse? They harm you even more. ‘Nuff said. Stop smoking. And one thing I really detest about you? It’s the morning rush. I’m a girl, and Kimberly’s a girl. We have long hair. We need to tie our hair before we go to school or we will look like monsters. Who do you care more, the banglas, or your daughters? OBVIOUSLY US RIGHT? I know at Whitley, there’s always a big jam due to two schools being to close, and Catholic High has a lot of rich and wealthy idiots (YES I MUST RANT ABOUT THESE DRIVERS LATER ON) who drive slowly, take their own sweet time, say byebye to their precious princes. Of course Whitley there also got students being dropped off, but it’s mostly the CH people. I know it all comes down to the heavy burden of responsibility, but what the hell, your boss is your BRO!!! Can’t he understand your predicament? Explain lah! Those banglas can wait one la. All they know is to clog the casino at RWS to get free drinks and stink up the whole casino only. So stop rushing me in the morning. We only have 30 minutes to wash up, brush teeth, wear uniform, tie hair, wear socks, do a little bit of last minute packing, drink milo, collect water bottles. We have two hands, two legs and we are human. You’re a guy and you have short hair. Stop rushing me. Oh and did I mention that I have find my wallet sometimes? Because of you rushing, I forgot to take my wallet along today. And it all sparked a quarrel. Really, DON’T RUSH ME. It’s not easy to do all these in 30 minutes. AND THOSE DRIVERS! You bloody hell drive a decent BMW. It has good stats, don’t let it go to waste. I don’t know why, but you drivers keep taking your own sweet time to drive past. IT IS BRUDDY HELL ANNOYING OKAY! Maybe with all these things, it’s my own fault. Maybe I shouldn’t open my mouth to talk anymore. Since life is so difficult, maybe I should disappear. Just last Sunday, catechism mentioned death. I gave it a long, good thought. I know people around me may feel sad and depressed if I gave up on this life. But in the same way, they feel sad and depressed if I’m alive too. Maybe I should run away. Dear ol’ God, what should I do with this life? I’ve spent about two hours typing about 2000 over words out. Jesus, help me find the way. Amen.
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