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Tuesday, January 08, 2008 ... Posted at 11:22 PM

Sigh.
...

My mom and dad argued again tonight, as they usually do. It just feels so hopeless at times, I suppose.

My mom sat on my bed for awhile and then went out to the kitchen where she just stared blankly into the distance. I sat there and rambled on and on about the caucuses or how much I hated the woman, Clinton. She just continued staring and, with much fatigue in her eyes, comment occasionally.

So now I find myself sitting here and reflecting back on some thoughts that I dare not tell anyone else other than the non-existent audience reading this blog. In some ways, I kinda like it. At least I can rest assure that its not being BROADCASTED, per se. Those who care or remember can visit here and read if they choose. And, thus far, the only people I've shared it to are the people I cared about. Huh ... does it mean that the feeling isn't reciprocated? Whatever, it doesn't matter if they don't care or not, as long as I have a place to contain my thoughts so my brain doesn't explode.

That aside -- I have a confession I'd like to make.

During this entire break, I've felt ... somewhat down. I cannot pin it. After we returned from San Francisco, all I've done is sat in my room and played games I've downloaded from the internet. Games like Final Fantasy VII and VIII ... I haven't even touched them since I was a little kid. Ah, the good memories. At that time, I didn't have to worry at all. Even though my parents would still argue, and their fights were much more violent then, who cared. We had a lot of people living at the house and they comforted me.

Now, I live in this giant place, and there are hardly any inhabitants. Thus, I spend all of my time dead. Yes, dead. Why? I am not alive right now, at least I don't feel like it. All I am doing is reflecting in the past. As I play the game, it feels like I am eight or seven or ten again. I don't have to worry about the outside world and what they think of me. As if I gave two shits what they think of me. Its not as if anyone notices in the first place.

Being alive again, for a brief moment, and returning to the present. Stephanie asked me today if I wanted to go to China, I was surprised she'd ask that, at first I was a bit hopeful. Oddly enough, a magazine I had subscribed to (and had not heard from for months) finally arrived today: National Geographic Traveler. Interestingly enough, they were doing a special on China.



I was elated! I thought this was a god-given (even though I am atheist) sign that I can finally have an adventure and go somewhere far away and do something and learn something! Later this night, my mom dug through the rest of our letters and annouced to me (being the only other sober person in the house) that the government demands taxes for the home for the next four years. I didn't even propose the idea, I just kept quiet to myself, and sympathized. Knowing my dreams were crushed.

The economy is so bad. I, myself, have to work jobs. I need to save my money for education ... yeah. Regardless of what happens, I can't lose sight of that.

Cheavaraman has been in a bad mood today, it seems. Maybe Cheavaraman is lost in thought because his mother is bringing people over from other countries for a bit of money to survive on. In some ways, I feel so angry at Cheavaraman for being so single-minded, but I can't blame that person. They have a hard life.

Myself? I suppose I live a relatively comfortable suburban life ... yet I just feel so much discontent. Like all those moments where Rose made me so angry. It was strange. It felt that there was someone using a paddle to beat my brain. I could practically feel the chemicals in my brain swishing and swirling -- giving me a strange sense of rage that I am almost afraid of.

Jesus, I am going off topic. I'm rambling again. I think too much sometimes. Whatever.

So I basically spent my entire day playing games and reorganizing the post cards on my wall.





Everything I have nowadays is travel themed ... even the checks I have. I suppose its the most comforting thing for me -- just to have something remind me of the fun times I had away from this dead end suburb filled with dead-end people.

After spending a bit of time away from this wall of text, maybe its because I never express my feelings, so people never know. I let every sit and rot in a cauldron. Sometimes I leave bad memories there for years and years until it finally starts igniting from all the creatures that grows on it and boils. Then I start to spout out what seems like non-sequiturs. Well, what can I do? Would anyone give two shits if I said anything? That's why I hate it when people assign me leadership roles. I'd rather just take orders ... of course, then I'd be thinking in my head how terrible the administration is ... this and that.

I may be a problem child.

The spirits has spoken 0 times. [Comment]






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Name: K.Y.L.
Blood Type: O
Birth: Summer Equinox
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