Friday, 19th December '03


"Fathers be good to your daughters
Daughters will love like you do
Girls become lovers who turn into mothers
So mothers be good to your daughters too"
-John Mayer, "Daughters"

I hate admitting how much power they have over me. And I don't just mean I'm dependant on them for the roof over my head. I'm pretty sure I don't love anyone more than I love them. And being a normal human being, I get hurt. I get hurt so much more by people I love. So having given them this huge part of me, I feel it's been taken out, trodden in the dirt and handed back to me gift-wrapped in the kind of soggy newspaper the Australian fish-and-chips vendors sell you your dinner in. No one makes me cry like they do.

I used to think to "love" and to "like" were the same thing, the difference being nothing more than a matter of degree. Wrong. Sometime earlier I wrote 6 A4 pages analysing why that difference exists between them and me. And for now that essay is for me alone. I wanted to talk if over with them, but each time it just seemd easier to forget it once the storm blew over. I honestly believe they will give up their lives for me, and when they tell me how much I mean to them, how I've changed their world and made it worth living, I know it isn't a lie. You could say no one makes them cry like I do.

"Hey dad look at me
Think back and talk to me
Did I grow up according to plan?
Do you think I'm wasting my time doing things I wanna do?
'Cuz it hurts when you disapprove all doing

And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't pretend that
I'm alright
And you can't change me

'Cuz we lost it all
Nothing lasts forever
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect
Now it's just too late and
We can't go back
I'm sorry
I can't be perfect

I try not to think
About the pain I feel inside
Did you know you used to be my hero?
All the days you spend with me
Now seem so far away
And it feels like you don't care anymore

And now I try hard to make it
I just want to make you proud
I'm never gonna be good enough for you
I can't stand another fight
And nothing's alright

Nothing's gonna change the things that you said
Nothing's gonna make this right again
Please don't turn your back
I can't believe it's hard
Just to talk to you
'Cuz you don't understand"

- Simple Plan, "Perfect"

The first time I heard this song I was close to tearing by the end of it. Today I heard the words again, stuff to the effect of "We always thought we were good parents. How did you turn out like this?" I thought they got over it, really. Since the last time of the "nasty person" affair. The "nasty person" time was the last time I ever cried for myself in a public (as public as you can call the council room) place. I know I'm basically a good person, but that day, it took repeated reassurances from Alex, Hanting and Ivan to get me in enough shape to complete whatever I had gone to school for. So what's wrong with me, why can't I ever (I don't care how cliched this sounds, it's true) DO ANYTHING RIGHT?

I've seen the shows, read the books, in the Western world the kids move out at 16, 17. They don't visit much. They spend as little time at home as possible, just to keep relationships good. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? A few years ago I thought that was absurd. I think I'm beginning to understand.

"God has been so good
Blessing me with a family
Who did all they could
And I've had many years of grace
And it flatters me when I see a smile on your face
I wanna thank you for what you've done
In hopes I can give back to you
And be the perfect son"
- Backstreet Boys, "The Perfect Fan"

I know I've got no right to complain. I have a good home. They don't stinge on me, in fact they give me everything they can. My friends get nothing like this. They give me not only money but their persons, their time. I'm just too much of a piece of shit to get it right and be what they want. I'm disgustingly stubborn too, I want to be me, I want to live my life the way I want to. I don't make concessions. It's drives them mad, which drives me mad. I try to make up for it, save money, study hard, but at least let me keep my room the way I like. Don't get made about whether my windows are closed or open. Please, I need some space to breathe, and I don't want you to live in my carbon dioxide. Don't make concerned remarks behind my back, when you think I'm sleeping. Because I heard them, alright? You were careless enough to once actually call me and leave the phone on without knowing it while you discussed me and all my flaws. You had that conversation in the car when you thought I as asleep. You had that other one in your room when you thought the toilet door was soundproof. I love you too much to believe you were sneaky enough to have done that to hurt my feelings so as some reverse psychology tactic to get me to be the way you want.

I'm afraid of turning into what some of my friends are - a kid that has no closeness to the ones that gave her life. It might work for other families, but it won't for ours. I've got friends who don't shop with their parents, I've got friends who think nothing about giving their parents the cold shoulder when they don't get what they want. I've even got friends who have had boyfriends for two years before they mothers found out by catching them holding hands at busstops. I'm not criticising this. It's just they way they've chosen their family to work. I will not make that choice.

I know I've been a good daughter. I don't waste your money as far as I can, ever since I've ever started working, I know it doesn't come easy. I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't stay out till the wee hours. I hardly go clubbing, I don't join gangs, I don't get into fights. I do my work at school, I don't smartmouth my teachers, and since secondary school I've grown up and I don't smartmouth you. I don't lie to you, about where I go and what I do. I even let you know before I alter parts of me, before I dye my hair, even though my body is the only thing I have to call me own. I let you vet just about all the clothes I buy - even the socks. I will run your errands, I will drive you home from work when I have my license. I chose my choice of study and career path with you in mind. I know I'm the only child and CPF notwithstanding, you need me, the money I will make and my company. I don't talk bad about you behind your back, and I will fight to protect your honour if you need me to. I have never let any of my friends say anything bad about you either. So, you see, I'm not so bad after all. Please don't make me feel like I am.

Please. I'm seriously trying.

en ying snapped a shot of life @ 02:26 am
[well, the pictures aren't going to take themselves!]

smile shocked sad
big grin razz *wink wink* hey baby
angry, grr blush confused
cool crazy cry
sleepy hehe LOL
plain jane rolls eyes satisfied