it's funny how i always get asked one silly question by my parents.
"WHAT DO YOU WANT?" to some people they may think that the once who are asking are caring and have been thinking on what the other person have felt, but truthfully, NO, they don't.
there was this one time when my parents asked me if i wanted to attend a party alone or with my sister, and with my sister being who she is, she didn't want to go. But of course so did I, I told them I don't want to, i told them I don't need to, but deep inside I really wanted to try it. At least just a glimpse would be fine. But hell no, I was already called a slut and a whore many times by my own mother, so why risk a chance to prove her about that? They allow me to choose but I always end up thinking what they might say or think that they haven't shouted at me yet. If I did go to that party? Will she call me a slut again? or a whore maybe? or an ungrateful child? If I did go home late that night and allowed myself to enjoy that moment? would they call me a trouble child again? would they reprimand me and say that i go and meet men and flirt with them?
In their eyes, I was a slut and a whore, that i always flirt with men every time I got the chance. what ever i do, it's always bad for them, I am always the problem child. If my brother or sister got reprimanded, they include me in the screaming and counting of sins. If I did good, i never heard a sincere praise. If i did bad at something, i am always at the wrong but when my siblings did, it means they are inexperienced.
I was not allowed to be improper, I always have bottled up my emotions and waited to arrive at my room before i let my tears fall. I cannot shout because they might hear for their room is just below mine. I let out silent cries cause i know it can never be heard. I comfort my self through means of fantasies I read in books and watching movies. I contain my pains cause I know I would just get blamed for it. I have started to be unemotional to things, I have distanced myself from the people who i thought would care.
My friends are busy with their lives and I don't want to burden them with my own, I keep secrets to which I would carry to the ground and might never ever tell anyone. Still I will be asked what I want. And maybe someday I may finally breathe the words..
"My End"
Saturday, August 18, 2018
Monday, August 6, 2018
Bad Words?!
Fuck shit!!!!!!!!!!!
Bull shit!!!!!!!!!!!!
ANimal!!!
Yawa!!!
Yati!!!
All of the bad words I knew!! cannot even describe how I hate all of you!
I hate living with you, i hate breathing the same air as you, i hate walking the same earth as you fucking being. all you do is nag nag nag.. all you ever do is say all of your hardships acting like i fucking care.. acting like everything you did was for the fucking best.. BULL FUCKING SHIT!
What part of that improved our lives huh? Just because they woke you up to prepare for lunch then you start grumbling like what they asked was the moon or stars? WHAT THE HECK?!! I did more than that and haven't even eaten a proper meal and you are the one FUCKING grumbling?!!!!
TO HELL WITH YOU!!!!
Every fucking day, i struggle with myself, I struggle with the decision whether i really wanted to live or not while all of you always wake up thinking what ever you wanted for breakfast. Every second I battle with my mind to not strike that fucking knife on my flesh and hope that I could pass the day without slicing it. Every fucking day I am always holed up in my room thinking every negative thoughts about my life and ended up summarizing my whole life. Every fucking second I always grieve with how unfit I am to be here standing in this lonesome place I call home, trying to be perfect and strong with all the holes I already have. Every fucking day I loathe myself more for not being able to do anything but cry silently then telling them I'm okay. Every fucking time I endure these voiceless tears that keeps on flowing on my tired eyes which cannot rest.
And here you are, the one who is more loved than I, the one who is more happy than I. Grumbling your way in which everyone can hear. Good for you, now I am again the villain, now I am again the lazy sloth, I am as always the bad kid. Then after being scolded for a hundredth time, I crawl my way to my dark room, creeping on my bed, holding my heart in which have been broken to shards, wishing that for once and for last, I may stake this poison deep in my remains and finally break free off this hurtful chains that binds me to which I am today and finally free my miserable ME.
Bull shit!!!!!!!!!!!!
ANimal!!!
Yawa!!!
Yati!!!
All of the bad words I knew!! cannot even describe how I hate all of you!
I hate living with you, i hate breathing the same air as you, i hate walking the same earth as you fucking being. all you do is nag nag nag.. all you ever do is say all of your hardships acting like i fucking care.. acting like everything you did was for the fucking best.. BULL FUCKING SHIT!
What part of that improved our lives huh? Just because they woke you up to prepare for lunch then you start grumbling like what they asked was the moon or stars? WHAT THE HECK?!! I did more than that and haven't even eaten a proper meal and you are the one FUCKING grumbling?!!!!
TO HELL WITH YOU!!!!
Every fucking day, i struggle with myself, I struggle with the decision whether i really wanted to live or not while all of you always wake up thinking what ever you wanted for breakfast. Every second I battle with my mind to not strike that fucking knife on my flesh and hope that I could pass the day without slicing it. Every fucking day I am always holed up in my room thinking every negative thoughts about my life and ended up summarizing my whole life. Every fucking second I always grieve with how unfit I am to be here standing in this lonesome place I call home, trying to be perfect and strong with all the holes I already have. Every fucking day I loathe myself more for not being able to do anything but cry silently then telling them I'm okay. Every fucking time I endure these voiceless tears that keeps on flowing on my tired eyes which cannot rest.
And here you are, the one who is more loved than I, the one who is more happy than I. Grumbling your way in which everyone can hear. Good for you, now I am again the villain, now I am again the lazy sloth, I am as always the bad kid. Then after being scolded for a hundredth time, I crawl my way to my dark room, creeping on my bed, holding my heart in which have been broken to shards, wishing that for once and for last, I may stake this poison deep in my remains and finally break free off this hurtful chains that binds me to which I am today and finally free my miserable ME.
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