SSDD- same shit different day.

I started to realize how insanely loved I am when I arrived home past 8pm when the treaty I imposed myself stated that I supposedly be home before 6pm. Needless to say, my mom stabbed me with all the hurtful words possible and ended up wallowing herself in guilt and self-pity. She felt bad about bringing me up to this world that cost the lost of her dignity. I know how sick it is to raise a child that wasn’t even a wee bit part of one’s life plan at the moment; neither would it be easy to single-handedly face it all.

The consequent of such action is now being sucked up to my face each time I commit a mistake that isn’t really a mistake because I chose to get myself in trouble.

What’s so weird about the customary sermons I get from my mom is that, I do think it is much applicable if I had gone wandering aimlessly at bars, smoking my lungs out, being kicked out of school, going home in the morning and getting myself pregnant. I know it would be too egotistic of me to be proud that I am a good daughter and a good person, so to speak. Although I am not as perfect as they wanted me to be, even their standards of good and evil is beyond my understanding, all I know is I am still a good person for not completely murdering myself. I would gladly embrace those pitiful and hurtful words that have always been creeping around at the back of my head if I had chosen the paths of those whose life is headed towards eternal damnation.

Even if I was this half-robotic daughter who could hardly get out without a good excuse to speak, I still lived my life the way I wanted it, somehow. I can’t lose those people who are dearly close to me just because I couldn’t get myself out of the house, I knew I am worse than Cinderella, she’s lucky enough to stay with his prince charming until 12 am. For some strange reason, I find it easy to go against them, not because I want to hurt them in any way, it’s because I am going to end up rebellious and scandalous if I had to endure much torture, there’s a good benefit there, I think.

I have yet to endure this fate until I get myself settled for a normal life, which I think would take a long time from now. Some people have to understand that the eldest has a lot of burden to shoulder in his/her future life, the burden of his/her parents, including the burden of his/her siblings, and the burden of being exceptionally self-sufficient. It’s sad, really, how much load it is that I have to bear, I could’ve been a med student to take on my father’s profession, but sadly I am going to be one of those who would bear a lot of discerning response from other people.

Sometimes I blame our genes for being pathetic. It’s genetic, really, the way we get mad over shallow things, the way we tend to make a big deal out of everything not necessary, and the very same way we get to be overly-dramatic. Temperament is of course, genetic.

I hate to pass this on to my future kid, but surely she/he won’t be blamed for her pathetic mother.

I have a good life, and I’m thankful for this. The difficulties of life are never-ending, and yet life is short, isn’t it? Don’t we all deserve to be happy with the short time we’re given? Because afar from being trapped in a box, I know that freedom is closely at reach, even if it takes evil, even if it meant trouble to go against the rules. I’ve been bad and continue to be bad, but I know someday, they who thought I am headed nowhere will then see me going somewhere in life, and I can say, I am good…. still good after all.