I can't tell much about what it really is. The only thing for sure that, this is one of the toughest, the hardest, the heaviest, the most words-can't-describe thing in my whole life. I'm not getting this part utmost dramatically story telling, at least, I can write it down and find what is next I am going to do about this.
Well, we should call this as a piece of pain in a broken family.
I got a task, from Anthropology class, last week. We have discussed about a human background in personal, how he grows up, and how he becomes a part of society. And the topic turns to one of the most sensitive things of mine: family. The lecturer asked us to make an essay about how our family treats us on our childhood, and how it affects us become who we are, now on. It might be fine for the others, but me. I have been stuck for moments as I think about what I could tell on that paper. I'm completely stuck, because no one might know how it feels to be me; whether I'm living well or not, growing up in the World War 3.
I was, completely mad, at them, at the ones who grab the things I should feel on my childhood. Don't they think I'm too young to be messed up? Don't they know there's a girl on a dress, crying along her way home? I don't think so. I find it's hard to look at the reason why I keep going on this life. I'm not too much, can you feel what I feel? Don't say you know how it feels if you do not feel it.
When Daddy is yelling, Mommy is crying, what are you supposed to do?
I don't mind to skip every holiday. I don't care if I even have two different addresses. I don't give a shit when every year I can't have a family portrait anymore. But what it strikes the most? It's me, it's deep inside. People could see me stand with my chin up, even many of them say that I'm a bad girl instead. When every cigarette I throw inside my car and every fuckin word burst out from my mouth.
Am I that... wrong?
I do ask for mercy if I am, but you know what... it's the easiest way to ease the pain, it's how I do survive, it's how to tell myself that I have to keep strong no matter what is going on around. I am being me today, not to let my tears drop because it's got no plenty already. Come on, be positive. Get closer to me then judge me, because when you say that I'm bad, I'm pretty weak inside.
Oh, this is too much, I think I'm too overwhelmed. Well, let's just skip it now and go back to my task instead. But anyway... what I have to write as the first sentence?
Help.
Well, we should call this as a piece of pain in a broken family.
I got a task, from Anthropology class, last week. We have discussed about a human background in personal, how he grows up, and how he becomes a part of society. And the topic turns to one of the most sensitive things of mine: family. The lecturer asked us to make an essay about how our family treats us on our childhood, and how it affects us become who we are, now on. It might be fine for the others, but me. I have been stuck for moments as I think about what I could tell on that paper. I'm completely stuck, because no one might know how it feels to be me; whether I'm living well or not, growing up in the World War 3.
I was, completely mad, at them, at the ones who grab the things I should feel on my childhood. Don't they think I'm too young to be messed up? Don't they know there's a girl on a dress, crying along her way home? I don't think so. I find it's hard to look at the reason why I keep going on this life. I'm not too much, can you feel what I feel? Don't say you know how it feels if you do not feel it.
When Daddy is yelling, Mommy is crying, what are you supposed to do?
I don't mind to skip every holiday. I don't care if I even have two different addresses. I don't give a shit when every year I can't have a family portrait anymore. But what it strikes the most? It's me, it's deep inside. People could see me stand with my chin up, even many of them say that I'm a bad girl instead. When every cigarette I throw inside my car and every fuckin word burst out from my mouth.
Am I that... wrong?
I do ask for mercy if I am, but you know what... it's the easiest way to ease the pain, it's how I do survive, it's how to tell myself that I have to keep strong no matter what is going on around. I am being me today, not to let my tears drop because it's got no plenty already. Come on, be positive. Get closer to me then judge me, because when you say that I'm bad, I'm pretty weak inside.
"I can't believe it's hard just to talk to you, but you don't understand.".
Oh, this is too much, I think I'm too overwhelmed. Well, let's just skip it now and go back to my task instead. But anyway... what I have to write as the first sentence?
Help.
