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read between the lines
effing hell i'm so tired of this shit.i am sick and tired of constantly being nagged on what to do, where to go, who to see, what time to come back, how to spend my per diems, what vocation to focus on and so on. i am firetrucking sick of being blamed and scolded every time i lose something of my own, mess up on my own project, or make a mistake with consequences that affect only me and me alone. and even when i follow their instructions, i still get scolded when i get cheated or swindled or delayed by events beyond my control. i am growing increasingly angry at being made to consistently feel unwelcome in my own home, be it disallowing me from keeping shoeboxes (instead of allowing them to get all dusty on the shoerack), decorating my room walls with practical things like noticeboards and calendars, or even watching television in the living room after my dad and his insanely high-volume loudspeaker-cranked movies calls it a night. it almost breaks my heart into angry little pieces whenever i think of the times i'm with my mom and her mom, and i'm forbidden from telling my grandmom what we had for lunch or where we went simply because my mom "don't want her to nag at me for eating 'expensive' food and going to 'expensive' places". like, you see exactly where your mother went wrong and is still going wrong (my grandmom still panics and calls up the old adult children that live with her if they don't come back past 9pm), and you can't even cut me some slack and learn from her mistake instead of fricking repeating it on me? and i really lose it whenever i think of how my parents call off all bets or limits upon my brother and refuse to acknowledge or even discuss the unequal treatment system they afford to him. i shouldn't have to put up with this accumulating shit just because i'm the oldest and i'm not a guy. i know it sounds terribly like the older brother protesting at his father's celebration upon the prodigal son's return, but i can't see a way beyond it. i feel like they should be grateful that i've stayed with them in this empty house (for the dogs, only ever for the dogs, but still) all these years, that i've come back within their insanely early curfew hour for most of the time, paid my own way through college, brought home the bacon occasionally by treating them out to fancy meals, reluctantly done all the responsible shit i'm supposed to be doing as the eldest in the family and the one of apparently weaker sex. but the fact is, they're not. and everything that's happening now seems to be repeat of what's been going on a fricking decade ago. fights for independence, quarrrels about money issues. and i really hate it that they always act all insincere and wanting to hug and phone me up whenever i leave on long trips, whereas all the time i am here, they treat me like shit and refuse to acknowledge that i actually have a viable future in creative arts, even if it means taking over the mike at 'unsanctioned', 'anti-christian' pubs and bars, working in an upcoming film studio here for half the pay that i'd get across the causeway, or writing little-known but possibly acclaimed tomes while living on a dime until the windfall comes.  well f**k them. this time next year, i will be moving out for good and will finally be able to live my own life, dress how i want, eat whatever i want, spend however i like (i don't even splash my dough around, dammit; i invest in creative arts), swear however many mothafelucking times i want, wake up at whatever late time in the day i want, stay out however late i want and finally immerse myself in however many creative avenues for a living i want. i just hope i don't go crazy, commit suicide, or die or suffer from some stress-induced terminal illness as i wait for freedom to come. |
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