Had one of the closest shave of my friggin life tonight, if not the closest my dad got to find out I smoked. (or maybe he does know, just that he's waiting for the right time to catch me red-handed..)
Anyway, here goes...
Place: Role of shophouses opposite CCK Bus/Mrt Interchange
Time: Around 11+
Scenerio: After dropping Nings off, I decided to deposit some $$ that Mum gave me for paying her handphone bills, and since I was already at CCK, where better to finish up the business than the DBS machine at the bus interchange there? So there I was, happily driving into the carpark, parked the car, and decided: wouldn't it be nice if I took another fag while I go about my business?
Sweet...
Just as I was reaching for the ciggys, I realised something fundamentally flawed with my logic. Namely, the lack of a source of flame, ie to say: lim bei had no lighter - at this point, many thanks to KK for refusing to lend me any lighters, you saved my skin - therefore the scrapping of what would have been a 'great' idea.
And my downfall.
For the walk to the cash deposit machine threw up one hell of a surprise to me.
My Dad. (he was waiting for his turn at the 24 hr clinic)
OMFG!!! (x10)
I almost dropped my balls. (as compared to me really dropping my balls if I had been caught smoking by him...)
Maybe as Nings said, maybe I did accumulate some good karma.
I supposed all this extra trips sending people back home did come in handy afterall :)
But after this little episode, I got home to realise something.
Something which I have always known, and said.
I have a f**ked up family.
Once again, it just highlighted to me how my family seems to be always in a mess.
And how I feel absolutely no love for the family at times.
I really question myself sometimes: Do I stay because...
1. I need a roof over my head
2. I need $
3. I need the car
4. I need the future inheiritance(if there is any in the first place)
Tough choice, but I'll go with... all of the above.
Yes, I admit: I'M A SHAMELESS, REALISTIC, PRAGMATIC, MERCENARY CHEAPO SONOFABITCH.
But I'm not afraid to admit it, cos this is how I feel, and if you feel otherwise, I'm sorry that I can't confirm to your moral standard. Cos I am what I am...
Anyway...
Back to why I was enlightened again tonight?
Cos I realised I can't, couldn't, and unable to hold a decent conversation with my parents without them either wanting to chew my head off or me resisting having to tear my hair out.
A sample of what's going on...
Me: Hey mummy, I saw daddy at the clinic just now...
Mum: Yah lah, and you guys just know had to go out and enjoy!
Me(thinking): What the fiack?!?!??!
See what I mean?
A decent opening line that I hoped was able to lead to something more... conversational.
But no....
The first sentence that came out from her friggin mouth puts me off so much, I just turned and went upstairs without a single word.
Well, that's the mum I get, kids.
Please don't think that for a moment, I enjoy this life of relative ease and comfort(as compared to some really dirt poor people, or wait, some voices yelling out, the average family).
There's always 2 sides to a coin my friends.
All this fancy things, these houses, these cars, everything.
They don't belong to me.
I'll tell you straight up, honestly.
They don't fucking belong to me.
My car, if it ever so pleases my dad, can be towed off and sold in an instance. Make no doubts about it. That's what happened to Max(my pet name for the RX-8).
And don't get me started on the threats they employ using the vehicle as a leverage whenever they deem fit.
But you got a car for your birthday! - I hear some voices cry out.
Big deal.
I'm sure if your parents can afford they will buy one for you too.
I know I would in the future. But minus the expectations and the threats that come with the car.
The house I live in, the room that I live in as a matter of fact, is only a place of residence.
Put up posters on my wall and I got screwed, till I decided to plaster the whole damn wall at the same time to save the nagging once and for all.
The furniture, the lights the everything. They bought them, not me. So have I a say in it, well of course I do! The choice will always be either or. Either you 'like' it and take it. Or you don't have it. Simple eh?
The tv, the hi-fi system, the knick-knacks. All FOC. Well, if you don't count on them being emotional bargaining tools and burdens to add to the guilt in a losing argument.
The house has only my share when it comes to cleaning up.
Bringing people over to the house when they're out is a NO NO.
Asking people over will already make them uncomfortable - hence the reluctance for me to invite friends over, not that I don't want to - thus the absence of much visitors in my house.
Staying in the house while they're overseas? Not a chance.
Can you fucking believe it?
They say that this house is ours, therefore we should do our part and keep it clean and tidy, so here's the mop, the pail and the cloth, kids. Now move those arses and get the house clean.
But when they're gone?
Sorry kiddos, but I don't trust ye all to take care of the house.
Right.
My very fondest memory of this arrangement being a joke, was this incident like what, 2 years ago?
I was supposed to visit Japan with my parents, but it being the exam period I had to stay here & finish up while my parents fly over first.
During this period of time I was staying over at my grandma's house(which I always do when they are overseas, I kid you not.) and one day I received a call from Carrie, my dad's secretary(for gawd knows how long) who wanted to fax me the program sheet and flight plans for the Japan trip. The number she wanted to fax to? My home number of course.
Erm, but I wasn't at home, I told her, and my grandma's house has no fax machine.
I swore she was shocked. Cos she sounded shocked.
Eventually, we did work out a plan for me to receive the shit by email, but not before having a small chat on why the heck I wasn't allowed to be at home when the folks are away.
I wouldn't say it was very bad. But can you imagine how paiseh I felt when I told her I wasn't at home, and how awkward I was to carry out the friggin conversation when I could so feel her surprise at the whole episode and still had to feign nonchalence?
You try asking yourself how you will feel.
And you know what the best part about everything is?
I have'nt spoken much to my parents over the last 2 ~ 2 1/2 weeks.
Cos I'm still jobless.
Cos I'm lazing around the house.
Cos they doesn't understand a friggin single thing and thinks that everytime I'm at the laptop I'm doing some shit while in actual fact, I'm trying to do some research.
Cos they thinks everytime I go out I'm just having fun.
Cos they just doesn't like me.
Well, why don't you tell her what you're doing?
Got use?
Did they seem to understand why I took Pol Sci as my major?
Were they able to comprehend what I was doing for my CCAs? Ever since the days we had to stay back till late in sec school for my NPCC activities to the intensive rehearsals we had for ELDDS in JC and more recently, the gruelling projects for the Arts Club, the Motoing Club in NUS?
Never.
Explain to them.
You bet you arse I did.
But the bottomline is: They think that all these are a waste of time. Hence they doesn't understand the passion involved, and therefore, the time invested in committing for these activities.
I can still tahan the lack of understanding and support.
The lack of respect of what I do is even less of a concern for me.
But what hurts me the most.
What hurts me the most was their indifference, their criticisms, the simple fact that they were never proud of me.
Well, 'never' seems pretty strong, since I guess they were pretty happy when I was in pri school. I think.
But the older I grew, the harder it is to earn their approval, to satisfy them, to make them feel proud of me.
Pride is such a sin, but I yearn, I crave for that attention from my parents, from my mum and my dad, to tell me that son, we are proud of you.
But did they ever do that?
NO.
Actions speak louder than words mah...
Oh really, then what have they done?
Are we talking about the same people here? The mother who tells her son before the O Levels that he's gonna flunk and retake cos he buang-ed(ie: flunk) for his prelims? Or the father who tells his son not to dump his A Levels notes cos he might retain?
Oh wait, how about the mum who 'advise' the son to go die and brands him a 'good-for-nothing', a 'useless spoilt brat' and oh, a 'spineless worm'? And yes, show her love and concern by throwing moeny at his feet so he can have $ to spend and won't go hungry!
Maybe its the dad who found the son's convocation so boring he felt asleep and missed taking a picture of him on the stage? Or the mum who can cancel renovations on sundays to sleep in but not on the son's graduation day cos it's not important enough?
You tell me.
Where is the love?
Where is the fucking love?
I'm tired.
Tired of arguing, of being the black sheep in the family, of always having to go to bed feeling rotten and questioning my self worth everytime we fight over things that aren't important.
I feel so goddamn tired.
Whatever love I have, they don't deserve much of it.
I've lost whatever love I had of time, a long, long time ago.
Now their existence and my continued deference to them is to make sure I won't go cold and hungry.
Period.
