Do you ever get the feeling that life struck you as nothing but unfairness and biases? But upon self-reflection and evaluation, you realize that the problem does not lie with society, however, it is you who have been through all the fuss the whole time. I had always known about my problem with fitting in, yet however, I have no idea how to change my behavior. Socialize more you said, yet people couldn't make the time. Then thoughts come in, could it be that they don't like/appreciate you enough to make time for you?
I know she doesn't love me at all. Our conversations and actions had slowly deteriorated from being able to form proper sentence structures to insulting one another openly.
In short, we are too... strained. I could blame it on technology for all I want, but we know deep down, both of us have long given up the hope to amend. In this current generation, everyone blasting loud music at each other but nobody sits and listen, quite depressing isn't it.
Most of the time I'll tell her to die, and she would reply "why don't you die first". Ironically the one who gets butthurt and insulted, in the end, was me. So I'll retreat back to the comfort of my own room where I binge watch Tracey Ullman shows till my droopy eyes show signs of weariness. The days, months and even years of not being able to talk to my family like a normal person seem rather, unexpectedly, acclimatize. So much so I yearn for the kind of warmth we talked about during gatherings at Christmas or having a get-together party during CNY to simply remember everyone.
The "love" we had once had now perished into the fathomless sea. Or I reckon that once, brother took my spot when Mom didn't want to have sushi with me but instead, agreed to go for buffet with him during their "secret" conversations.
I'm extremely rebellious and I go all extent to seek my own happiness. It may be wrong or dangerous, mom always said no but wouldn't tell me why.
I'm just so broke,
you can't see me cry.
You can't see me fall but you'll witness I rise.
I'm proud to say I'm strong,
and I never let these frys get into my life.
What is there to live,
When all that's left
Is just an open end?
Literally "No tears left to cry".
It never gets better, it's always been this lonely, isolated and lost. Sure for a brief moment flash of happy memories fill my head with quick comfort. But all in all, it always crawls back to the dark.
If the words could mean anything at all, I'd hope that she had never given birth to me, and we will never be a real family ever again.
I wish for once, just once, someone would look into my eyes and ask "Are you oksy?"