Scribbles On The Wall

7:18 PM

I’m a little agitated, I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because of the strangers on the internet again, but they don’t feel like strangers, we’ve established some sort of contact. I don’t enjoy getting a green card and being here, but it’s even worse the other way around. The other way is good for retirement, bad for wanting an adventure. 

I don’t like writing monologues, scribbles on the wall that only I understand. But this whole time I thought I deserved what I had because I had worked hard for it, only to realize that I wouldn’t have had the skills I could leverage off if I had not been privileged. I was privileged, but not happy. I was lucky, but not ignorant. I’d rather be normal. I guess I was not trained to do that, so actually, complexity is now more familiar. I’m trained in chaos. I was told to be ambitious, or it’d be “lazy” and a very “unmotivated individual”, or a “shame to the family”. 

My dad was in the military, so was my grandpa. They definitely lived and talked like military men. The self-discipline they demonstrate, how strictly they stick to their principals, in an almost pain-inflicting way. I will never be able to do it, I'm a mere mortal. Is well-being a perspective? Can we measure past events in today’s perspective? Or not really? Is pain all about perspectives, relatively speaking, or is it about what we have, in an absolute sense? World hunger isn’t really a thing anymore, nobody is dying or being starved except in war zones, why do people still live unhappily? Do people live unhappily, or just me? I have no idea.

7:25 PM

I’m a little agitated, I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s because my mom told me I should stop smoking marijuana because of the Opium War. That was opium, this is weed, I thought they were different things. Even if they were the same, what’s that gotta do with me? She sends me all this “information” she gathers from Deepseek, tells me I should stop smoking because it’s bad for pregnancy. Heck, she wants me to pull a baby out of my vagina ASAP, but she’s not offering the sperm, nor the womb, nor the care, nor the money, nor the responsibilities. My vagina, my womb, my husband's dick, your business?  How entitled does this bitch feel about my body? I have no idea.

How can I not hate my mom? She gave birth to me, and that disgusts me. Half of my blood is hers, and that makes me want to skin myself off. She’s so gross, I can’t believe we are related, I came out of her womb. We are as different as two people can be, we are as similar as a mother-and-daughter should be. I hate her, but I know I won’t be happy if she’s unhappy, I don’t want her to have just too much fun either, because I know she will rub it in my face. Like a proper asshole. It runs in the family, being an asshole.

She’s almost 60, but acts like she’s 24. I’m always surprised by her not double, but triple, quadruple, super malleable standards. She thinks she’s still the hot girl she used to be, but she’s ugly and old, inside and out. She doesn’t have my sympathy, she deserves everything she has. I don’t like her, but it won’t make me happy to pain her. I thought it would, but it didn’t. I’m the bigger person, even though I’m not. Not because I’m the bigger person actually, but because I know it won’t bring me peace. Plus, this is the best way to hurt you, isn’t it? Through my “creative expression”. Take that, bitch. Yes, “bitch” was a creative expression. Bitch.

7:53 PM

I’m a little agitated, I’m not sure why. Maybe because this dude is supposed to help me with my cocktail night, yet went MIA. I do not know if the night is still happening at his place, what’s his plan, why isn’t he responding to my texts? We were supposed to stay in touch, the thing is in a few days, is he holding this against me on purpose? He knows I need him to respond, and doesn't respond on purpose. Does he enjoy this power? It wouldn’t surprise me if he did. He should never know I wrote about this, unless he reads it. Should I cancel? Or should I wait? Am I being emotionally manipulated? It wouldn’t surprise me if I am. It wouldn’t be the first time. You have no idea.

Why is this person so hard to get hold of? Does he want me to reach out, or does he not want me to? Does he want to do this cocktail night, or does he not want to? Why does he confuse me, why is he being a difficult friend, shouldn’t friends be a little bit nicer and more consistent with each other? What is he procrastinating, what is there to procrastinate for? It’s just a message. He could also just pick up the phone. Why am I under the impression that he’s excited about it?  

My mom says I’m delusional. What I have are illusions, not reality. They never fought, I never was depressed. I didn’t hate them, and they loved and cared for me. No verbal abuse, no emotional manipulation, no late night fighting threatening to chop each other's hands off. It’s all imaginary, cuz clearly what I remember, they don’t remember at all.