This morning I woke up feeling all happy and pixie-ish, having had a decent 8hour long slumber for once, plus the fact that it was perfectly sleepy, rainy Saturday morning. I thought that I was destined for a perfect day, where I could glue my ass to the couch for at least the whole morning and my eyes to the tv without any disturbance.

But was I hell wrong.

In comes my mom from the market, starting on the conversation delightfully with talks of movies and such. Then she starts the tension by telling me that I’ve not been shedding as much kilos as I should with my diet, and that I shouldn’t be wasting her money. After a bout of tense, small words, I turn my eyes back to the tv. And then she starts the war by telling me I rolled my eyes at her, which I know I didn’t, and after a couple of heated words, she came over to me and whacked me on the back real hard.

I just remember yelping as I struggled to prop myself on the floor. I spent a while trying to stop myself from sobbing uncontrollably whilst the black tiles beneath my face—which was shielded, thankfully, so no one saw me weep, by my unruly, uncombed hair—began to get seriously wet from the watery, icky substances that were spewing from my face.

Yuck.

And then began the cold war. I tried to snitch in all the sarcastic retorts I could manage, and slam all the doors of the rooms I entered as loudly—and with as much subtlety—as I could. Which wasn’t very successful, coz she’d just come back and warn me about knowing my place and that I was nobody.

I’ll show her.

And then I felt really bored being stuck up in the room—her room—watching COPS, so I went out and looked for Halo. But my dad—who, whoopee, ain’t really helping like he should, but as usual, is just watching me being tormented—told me that halo was with my mom. I knew that, but I didn’t care. I didn’t think she’d keep it with her. but I went to ask her, and surprise surprise. She didn’t allow me to play.

Reason being that my brother has tests next week. Who gives? I have tests too. You don’t see me stopping everyone from watching tv.
Later I argued with my dad. They’re all grumbling that I come down so late after post con and they don’t want the family to have to wait for me for half-an-hour after mass every Sunday, and want me to go home on my own. Isn’t this similar? I mean, making all of us keep our paws off the Xbox just because my brother is having tests. Is there even any logic in that? If he can’t control himself, then lock him in the room or something. Look, he isn’t even studying, is he? What’s he doing now? Watching tv.

This dumb plan isn’t productive, I am so sorry to say.

Anyway, my dad just laughed at me when I screamed at him, and told me he didn’t want to get involved in this scuffle. As always.

I was in the toilet when my brother came home from tae kwan do. I predicted it as it happened: My mom began fussing over him loudly. Just because he got a red belt now. You don’t see her fussing over me when I get A1 for english.

Later I just played the lousy fighting game on the xbox. I didn’t care. She noticed and warned me to stop. I didn’t. Later, to save my butt, I said 5 minutes more when she came over. She seemed slightly gentler, but still.

She said that I had always had this inferiority complex, that I thought she favoured my brother over me. And why shouldn’t I think this way? It’s so painstakingly obvious. And even if I do have this complex thingy, shouldn’t she working to make me think otherwise? It’s like, because I think like that, she’s making me feel worse than I already do on purpose.

I know I’m making my mother sound really bad here, but I mean, I know my parents have their own problems, but they don’t have to take it out on me. I can’t be their punching bag, can I? I got a life of my own, too. But sometimes I feel as if they had me just so I could be their robot and live the life they never got to lead. I know that’s really harsh, but that’s how I feel.

You can’t stop feelings.