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read between the lines
the helpless independent this week has been kind of a limbo for me of sorts. i was supposed to start work and move out of this place i've called home since childhood, but things got delayed.while i start to think about my potential room, i realise i am largely ill-equipped to live on my own. i have no idea how to cook (maggi mee, eggs and instant porridge don't count), iron nor use the washing machine. and it's not like i never wanted to try, or was never interested (believe me, i always was), but somehow or other my parents, in their derided minds decided they couldn't trust me with the relevant machines. i would waste water if i washed my own clothes. i would burn the house down if i learnt to cook. ditto for using the iron. it kind of makes me resent them for purposely leaving me so unprepared for independent life. this was their tactic, to refuse to teach or allow me to experiment on my own so as to render me helpless and forever dependent on them, which is what they want and expect me to forever be, even though i am past the age of coddling (not that i was ever really given much attention or pampering; signs of affection are almost a taboo in this cold household). there'll always be more to say about overprotective parents who let their paranoia and incessant worrying get to their head but i think i shall stop here for now. let's just say that the only family i'll miss (and deeply too) is my dogs, the bouncing bundles of joy that are ever-ready to greet me everytime i come home and provide great playmates as well as sources of the affection, love, loyalty, assurance and understanding that is so lacking in a place that can be, at its worst, frigid. later note: i am not saying my family has never loved me. but i just don't know why they find it so hard to express their love and choose to bury it instead under a layer of antitheses of love, be it criticism, overanxiety, provocation(what my brother is best known for), irritation or anything similar. |
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