Friday, December 14, 2007

A letter to the Victim of Norms

Grrr.

My life is getting nondescript.

Wish someone will pull me out of this life on the count of three.

One-

Two-

Three!

Darn, I'm still here. SANTA ARE YOU DOING YOUR JOB OR NOT!!!

Oh I get it. I've been naughty. Very naughty.

Let's look at my List of Shenanigans 2007

1. Scoring 33 for prelims,
2. Getting three F9s (for Chemistry, Amath and, surprise, surprise, Literature)
3. Getting last in class
4. Being every bit of the kid my folks never wished for
5. Being the antithesis of the kid my folks would ever wish for
6. Being temperamental all year long
7. Going all crazy for LP... at the wrong times.
8. Sleeping in every non-Ms Ow lesson since I lost my sanity in early February
9. Being asked by two teachers to drop their subject for being too lousy in their class
10. Last but not least failing to get into DPA.

Not that I care now anyways. I'm leading a good life of laughing at stupid mindless losers who are all about "safe options" and "serving the damn country" and "making money" and "are going to school because everybody else is".

Well you know what? The rat race is no safer. The corporate world is just as ruthless. The society in general is still full of shit. Safe options will backfire even though they're supposed to be safe.

I'm so sorry if my values conflict with yours, but really, I can't be bothered with you. Who are you to tell me what to do with my life? My values are to answer to myself and prove to myself I'm worth something. Not to prove to you, a complete nobody in my arrogant, cocky and somewhat vacant eyes, what I'm made of.

So there.

--

Urgh I'm so bored. I'd have looked forward to the trip so much if not for all the people I'd be missing and all the things that actually needs doing but I'm too fucking lazy and unmotivated to. Like my room. When was the last time you heard about my room? Well guess what, it's still not done. 50% not done. Plus I'm getting hungry. For everything. To go out and see the world. To do things that I want to do. To make the impossible possible. To kill people who deserve to die. To resurrect people who deserve to live. Maybe become a recluse. Maybe live a rock star alter ego. So many possibilities, so near, yet so far.

Why do I need people's approval to do the stuff I want? Technically, I don't. Technically, I shouldn't. I shouldn't even need to ask. 'Cause you don't ask me either. We should all just do what we need to do and wither away once we're done. What courtesy is there in asking anyway? You're still invading my privacy. What purpose is apologising? Can it undo what you've done? Can it make me forget the fact that you and I have ever crossed paths? Can it, really?

Why are people so nice and respectful to one another when they don't mean it? Why, like these despicable people, am I also wearing a mask? What am I hiding from you? My faceless identity, my shameless pride, my inflated self-esteem? What am I showing you then? A deliberately-orchestrated show of humility? Maybe to eat the humble pie in your face, only to turn around and regurgitate it later? Why do I have to look more stupid than I really am, just to let you take advantage of me? Why, if I feel like being direct I should. But no. I choose to pretend.