i know some who cannot understand the depth of my feelings regarding this issue so pls refrain from reading.

How would you like it if you really wanted something, with all your being, till in your despair, you start praying everyday. every night. you pray for a miracle. days pass. days turn into nights and that very thing eludes you. you dream about it.. you long for it and when you see others who have it.. you get so jealous, your shoulder slump down at the thought of it.

let's be frank. i never had my own room. all my life i have shared a room with my sisters. In my house, there is no such thing as your own spacee. everything is shared and there is no sanctuary for you to escape to. the lock to the bedroom my sisters and i share... is broken. everytime i try to claim a study space, it slowly gets invaded by my younger sis and mother. In some ways, sharing a room with my sisters have made me closer to them.. in others, i feel suffocated. there is no private corner for me to lick my wounds.. for me to retreat in privacy. basically, there is no sense of space.

Until i came nus. the privacy and the quiet came with a relief. there was no bitching. no mood swings to watch for. no sudden temper flares which result in tense atmospheres. no need to cater to everyone's whims. i could do my household chores at my own pace. there was no stress in maintaining everyone's mood. there was no feeling of always being caught in the middle.. of having to take sides.. of having everything depend on one mood! things have gotten so bad to a point, i could just scream and scream and scream and scream. cant u see that you are smothering me.

so when i didnt get pgp for 2nd year, it was disappointing and i felt like shit. Now, i got it. yet i cant get it. normally i wouldnt mind except for the fact i need a logical reasonable reason as to why i cannot get it.

i shall not go into details but let's just say that every issue they brought up and i countered with a logical argument.. they would say "oh its not the point" so what exactly is the point?
"it's the money issue.."
"okay.. i got the cheapest room and the administator said that i wouldnt have to pay for it till i move in."
"well i dont like paying for that room"
"How about i just pay for it by myself?"
"now. see.. that's not the point"
it's such a bitter experience to see after all the effort you have put in to make your parents happy.. they still dun trust you. it's so disappointing to see the people you once respected for what they really are.

people have told me that i should talk to them. but i noe it's useless.. i tried and like i expected.. every talk ends up with my mother taking offence... which results in her throwing down stuff and stompinh off to sulk.

now, it's no longer about the room. but how shockin it is to learn that no matter what you do, you can never please your parents. you can go to a course you hate for 4 years, you can break up with your boyfriend (coz they married their first serious boyfriend and wan you to experience "life"), you can always come home early, you can always go work at the family company whenever they wan you to.. but they will never ever be completely satisfied. even if you use your own hard earned money to by stuff u like, you wll always be seen a spendthrift. even if you pay for your textbooks, meals, transport, outings, they always deem you as a spoilt brat. even if you dun ask them for allowance when they forget to give.. and scrimp and save for your stuff... they will always forget good stuff that you did.

what will it take to please you?

you can skip lessons to stay back to help carry out disgusting drain water. you can cancel outings to help clean the house from top to bottom when they are in their fits. you can wake up early to clean the grilles. you can quietly help out like wash the underwears when u see them being soaked in the pail. you can iron the clothes.. but you know what? during chinese new year, when meeting the relatives, they won't talk about how you helped out. they tell the relatives how useless you are. how you never help out. or how u never cook.

it's always something else. something that you didnt do.

this has kinda served as a wake up call. i can never please them. so why am i still trying so hard?

the tighter you grip sand in your hands, the faster it flows out.

i dunnoe bout you guys but i like the following syntax from Romeo&Juliet. tink shakespare managed to properly capture the feeling of a family. the father refusing to listen.. the daughter who is still recovering from the shock.. not managing to put her real feelings into words.she tries to reject without hurting their feelings but it is always a lose-lose situation. the mother not wanting to do anything. and when the parents' decision is rejected.. the tantrams fly and no one listens.. the father just flies into an awful rage and demands things to be done his way.


Act 3 scene V

CAPULET
When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew;
But for the sunset of my brother's son
It rains downright.
How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears?
Evermore showering? In one little body
Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind;
For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea,
Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is,
Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs;
Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them,
Without a sudden calm, will overset
Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife!
Have you deliver'd to her our decree?

LADY CAPULET
Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks.
I would the fool were married to her grave!

CAPULET
Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife.
How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks?
Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest,
Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought
So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom?

JULIET
Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have:
Proud can I never be of what I hate;
But thankful even for hate, that is meant love.

CAPULET
How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this?
'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;'
And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you,
Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds,
But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next,
To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church,
Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither.
Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage!
You tallow-face!
LADY CAPULET
Fie, fie! what, are you mad?

JULIET
Good father, I beseech you on my knees,
Hear me with patience but to speak a word.

CAPULET
Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch!
I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday,
Or never after look me in the face:
Speak not, reply not, do not answer me;
My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest
That God had lent us but this only child;
But now I see this one is one too much,
And that we have a curse in having her:
Out on her, hilding!

Nurse
God in heaven bless her!
You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so.

CAPULET
And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue,
Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go.

Nurse
I speak no treason.

CAPULET
O, God ye god-den.

Nurse
May not one speak?

CAPULET
Peace, you mumbling fool!
Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl;
For here we need it not.

LADY CAPULET
You are too hot.

CAPULET
God's bread! it makes me mad:
Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play,
Alone, in company, still my care hath been
To have her match'd: and having now provided
A gentleman of noble parentage,
Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd,
Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts,
Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man;
And then to have a wretched puling fool,
A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender,
To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love,
I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.'
But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you:
Graze where you will you shall not house with me:
Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest.
Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise:
An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend;
And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in
the streets,
For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee,
Nor what is mine shall never do thee good:
Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn.

Exit

JULIET
Is there no pity sitting in the clouds,
That sees into the bottom of my grief?
O, sweet my mother, cast me not away!
Delay this marriage for a month, a week;
Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed
In that dim monument where Tybalt lies.

LADY CAPULET
Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word:
Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee.

Exit