some people ask me, why i dislike my mother. no really, i don't dislike her. i just dislike the way she treats me in sensitive situations. i hate the way she puts me in stiches. i hate the way she forces me to tell her my problems, and in the end makes me feel worse at the end about it.

obviously when you make me feel worse after i tell you things, i try to become perfect. i never like being a burden. i never want to burden you with my problems, to burden me with your response. in such a lose-lose situation, i just shut up. now when i tell you my biggest insecurity, you tell me im a weak person, who doesn't have enough EQ, who can't even guard her centre against something so small.

guess what, mother, my body image is not something so small. it's something that's been constantly crushed by the sight of skinny people all around me, and the constant taunting i've recieved from my own family since the beginning of time. of course you meant it as a harmless joke. but as they say, repeat a lie a thousand times, and it becomes a truth.

you made me believe that im the fat pig i think i am today. and now you try to say that im underweight? as if im capable of believing that anymore.

this whole problem with my back has been giving me the biggest shit in my life too. getting harassed by doctors who don't know no shit doesn't make it easier. getting nagged by a mother who doesn't understand insecurity, and getting scolded by the father who values every dollar. getting shit from every direction, i feel like i don't even have a corner to run into anymore. heck, im sinking into the bloody floor.


i can't even think now, because my mind is so polluted with thoughts of anger and hatred towards everything. im so, consumed, and overwhemled by everything i've been trying to surpress all this time. im at my limit. i feel like puking my guts out. and breaking a door. do a thousand sit ups. tear a hamstring. run 40 rounds around the football field. run into a frickin wall.

anything, but thinking about something so stupid like suicide and such. anything, but thinking of running away. if anything, i need to run into my problems and gobble them up, instead of push them away.


i need, to muster my own strength, instead of leaning on a shoulder. i need to stand tall, even with this curved back of mine, and walk through this.

speaking in metaphors \m/