the usual

---An argument with my father---

I get in the car.

(a while)
Can you send me out tomorrow?
What time?
Seven?
(nods silently)
(long pause)
In school you got do revision now or not?
Huh? What do you mean?
In school la. What is your school doing now? Are they doing revision now or still teaching you new stuff la.
(pause) Both.
How can your school be like that. Should be doing revision now you know.
Tell the school la.
(agitation) But that’s what they should be doing now. What do you mean ‘tell the school’ you should be the one asking them. Why do you always give me this kind of answer.
Because you’re the one always making demands what.
(silence)



the usual silence the rest of the ride home. He explodes at home to my mum. He tells her I can jolly well go out myself tomorrow. I can still hear him shouting as I bathe. He asks my mum to teach me how to talk properly and calls me a bastard, among other things. I try to maintain levity. I have an early day tomorrow.

the stinky stank itself

It feels like shit seriously shitty stinky shit that is called school please go away I want my life and sanity back, stop stealing my energy and youth, stop sapping my strength and my heart.

Please please...I need a break... save me...

I havent felt this depressed in ages, so long I hardly remember to cope. Today on the empty bus ride home I almost cried as I prayed for God to give me strength and the grace to see me through things I cannot change, things I know will pass.

So frustrated. My father curses me and even says my hair is so damn ugly... it hurts so much to hear that coming from your own parent, it hurts so much I wished he would die, and I was so sure I wouldn’t hold his funeral if he died the next day. But why… he is my father after all, even if he is a stranger. I wished he would die in a retirement home. But it is not right to curse my father.

Honours night is so frustrating, infuriatingly, unquenchably, irredeemably maddening. Harvey says my shoes are ‘not formal enough’. Roberta Tan says my shoes are ‘too fancy’. Not shiny enough. Not black enough. I told my parents not to attend anymore. I may not even go myself in the end. David Tan scoffs and says my hair ‘doesn’t even look like its been cut’, on the day right after I get it cut.

My hair is ‘too long’, ‘too high’, ‘too spiky’, ‘too messy’. Freakin freaks. So stupefyingly anal. I’m thinking of stuffing chewing gum into the keyholes of the PE office doors.

I cannot wait for stupid Honours night to end. I will be back. With chewing gum.

Sigh haven't been this depressed for a long time. Monday I came late and went to eat delicious roti prata at ghim moh. Today I purposely came late so I 1) wouldn’t have to go for the uniform check in the morning 2) wouldn’t have to hand up the GP compre I still haven't done 3) could eat roti prata again. Yum.

So very very tired. Today felt totally fatally listless and dead to the point of that kind of quietness that ppl start noticing. Dear Lord, bless mish lil’, Sulynn, Jon, Banu, Melvin, Caleb, Waiyin, Elaine, Dawn and everyone else who have given me each a little spark of hope and happiness to tide me thru the past few days.

Lord sustain me please, please. I feel like I’m in freefall. I don’t want to be there when the ground comes up.

Lord please bless mish lil’ especially, for in her kindness and warmth and smile I find my own strength to not give up and sit down on the highwayside. Lord please watch over her as you have watched over me and keep her safe.

Dear Lord why am I so ashamed of my father. Why do I always have to hate him so much... why do I always dangle him over that dangerous precipice of anger and sorrow and dissatisfaction... there must be a way this can change too.

having feelings suck

Dear you.

I am so confused about you.

I feel I don’t know you anymore, as if I’ve never known you in the first place.

Whenever we even see each other it feels so awkward.

I think of you so much even though we’ve never really had anything together.

We walk about pretending not to notice each other yet we message each other.

I’m so confused about what you want. I know what I want. I want you. I’m just waiting for you to say you don’t want me so nothing ever needs to begin.

ack what the hell I’m falling into self-pity pooooodles. Maybe I should just be brave and talk to you one of these days. Argh but then who do I be, myself or myself or myself? So difficult. I know I shall buy you a drink in school next week and lets see how it goes from there.

maybe i should seriously forget you.
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Thank goodness no one reads my blog so I can type all sorts of stuff on it hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

i love my blog. but without a tagboard it doesnt feel complete. funny that i want a tagboard when no one knows my blog address haha.