Sometimes I want to scream.
I want to yell at the top of my lungs, I want to put everything in writing, angry, unheard words; full of feelings that voice out but fall on deaf ears, time and time again.
Every time i want to put it in writing, I want to pen down in hopes that if I ever walk away from this home or fade away in this life, these words, these feelings, everything I am and precious to me will be heard. I hope people will reflect and realize, what went wrong and why.
But every time I don't, because I don't want people to read them. I don't want them to know, what's already been said too many times, but never listened to.
I tire of repetition. I tire of constantly having to be irritated because i'm tired and more so. Why don't the words "i'm tired" work? What, do I have to put up a signage on my door that says "I'm fucking tired, leave me the fuck in peace"
It's not that I don't want to help mum set up her new iphone. i'm tired from work, i'm tired with customers breathing down my neck to get something and i don't want to come home to someone wanting something from me like that. Why can't we do this on weekends? And why does guiding her along setting up her iphone becomes me showing her what to do every step of the way? In this case, she learns nothing. Vicious cycle will always come back to bite you in the ass, I know too well.
I've told her "i'm tired, please leave my room." three fucking times. only to have her just stay put and continue asking me "how?" and I'm like, "Do you not hear me? I'm tired, let's do this another day."
On deaf ears always.
With this and with other matters.
Funny how something so trivial can mean something so deep.
And you know how its going to sound like to others if they hear this? Why can't you just teach your mum, why are you so impatient, why why why why why why.
FUCK THE WHOLE LOT OF WHYS.
I'm tired, I've said it. We can do it another day.
Its not supposed to be like mum says and decides lets do it. Shouldn't she ask me if i'm tired? Does she even know I'm tired? Does she even understand i'm tired?
I'm tired and my father being drunk is like a constant fucking drone in my ears. and I have to do this shit without being asked if i'm tired. I'm just simply demanded to do it. before I can even say no, her phone is in my face.
And when i get mad, i'm the ugly-faced one here. I'm the ungrateful child.
Funny, cause she always knew i get irritated easily when i'm tired.
but she choses to do it.
time and time again.
Like me asking her to do me a favor and get something and her agreeing and then not doing it, knowing i will get mad.
and when I do get mad, she asks "what do you want me to do now?!" in a adamant tone.
I don't know, what CAN you do now? conjure something up with magic?
No apologies, no sorries, no nothing.
My deal is, its always good to apologize. Fuck that asian mentality, we don't live in the stone ages.
When you've done something wrong apologize.
When you need help, ask if the person is available not assume they are.
What difference does that make from the fucktards at work who throw people shit?
If this is a family, communicate.
I can't keep being the one thats saying things truthfully.
I can't keep saying "you should apologize when you should", "you should ask if i'm available", "you should ask if i'm tired",
"you should say it when you can't do it" because i'll do it the way I say it.
I can't be the only one doing this, when no one gives a shit what I say.
There's no answer to "I'm tired."
The topic just goes to something like "oh, whats the SMS code they gave me?"
It's like i'm screaming at the top of my lungs and no one can hear me.
Do I really, have to swear?
And will I one day?
I don't want to do the things I will regret, but I'm so near boiling point.
The line is thinning; at a scary speed.
I no longer have the tenacity to put up with dad, i will soon loose the tenacity to communicate with mum if she continues to take my words on deaf ears.
Stop looking from your own rabbit hole, stop telling others about how dad's nagging at you cause i'm not home.
Tell them why i'm not home, tell them the reason why i'm not home is not because of some rebound teenage rebellion;
tell them its because dad talks shit, and i hate it when he's drunk.
tell them i'm not home because i'm happier outside, that i can no longer stay home and keep sane.
tell them i'm not home because its better to be tired and outside than tired and home, tell them where i find my peace.
in the company of my friends, music and laughter.
tell them the truth.
don't tell them your story, draw them the full picture.
It's my issue, always.
I'm tired of this shit.
Its my earnest prayer again to earn fucking loads of money, so I can move out by 30.
I don't want to end up dying young, or being angry for the rest of my life.
I cannot think for the sake of the big picture anymore.
I just want to come home to some peace. in my mind and in my heart.
this is not peace.
I'll remain the rebellious child, i'll be the selfish one.
I tire of even explaining.