Friday, February 16, 2007
[About Fighting for Five Times Ten Dollars and Temperaments.]
[About Fighting for Five Times Ten Dollars and Temperaments.]
This is so sickening.
It's rare for me to actually complain about my parents, but sometimes they can really get on my nerves.
*BRAT ALERT: People who can't stand angst, fuck off.*
Yesterday I had an argument with my mum.
Over MONEY.
$50 to be exact. And it's not like I was the one who wanted to pick a fight.
I mean, does she expect me to survive on $10?!! Mind you I have no NETS or ATM cards or Cashcard, all I always have when you ask me out is ten bucks or less and an EZ-link card.
So I debated that sometimes I do see things that I really wanna buy, and I've seen it three times and each time I'd get the same strong desire.
And she goes on to preach about how I should manage my finances and instead of getting soy capuccino I should just settle for an 80-cent kopi-o. And quotes an example on my brother who has to watch a movie every saturday night and has to get a large popcorn and coke from the cinema, and something else which he probably wouldn't finish even with the help of his girlfriend. And that I didn't need to depend on all these materialistic enjoyment because they are superficial and, quoting from Clarice, the "not-having-it-doesn't-make-you-naked" theory.
And with each sentence her voice just gets louder and louder. I know it ain't gonna work. At that instant I just knew. Anything that raises my parents' volume means it's not gonna work.
So I beat a hasty retreat and said, "Oh, never mind" and made my way to my room.
"Come back here!! We'll settle things once and for all. COME BACK! Just what exactly do you want?! What's the thesis of your argument?! What's your point? What do you want to tell me?!"
"NOTHING!!"
"No you have something to tell me. You do. You have something on your mind and you had better come clean now."
"Can we not talk about this now? It's pointless negotiating when you're angry."
"I AM NOT ANGRY!!!!!!! Tell me what's the main point."
And I tell her how I've had enough of having to put all my wishlists on hold, how I always see what I want hundreds of times, for as long as it's there and I try to ignore it, thinking that I will forget it when months or even years later it still haunts me, I still want it and I can't make it go away because it's such a strong desire, yet each time I see it I can't buy it and when I have money it's out of stock. I'm so frustrated of going out with ten bucks, I'm really no longer a kid where I can choose cheaper options and live with the cheap, kid-sized version of every damn thing. I'm sixteen. I've had enough of putting all my impulses on hold only to realise they won't go away even after a year or two.
"You've been bearing with it for sixteen years, I'VE BEEN BEARING WITH IT FOR 36 YEARS OKAY?! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH WE MUST SCRIMP AND SAVE FOR YOU THREE AND YOUR FUTURES? DO YOU KNOW THAT FROM THE YEAR WE GOT MARRIED TILL THE TIME YOU WERE FIVE, FROM 1981 TILL 1996, WE'VE NEVER EVER BEEN FURTHUR THAN KL?! DO YOU KNOW FOR HOW MANY YEARS WE NEVER HAD MOVIES OR POPCORN OR ANY FORM OF ENTERTAINTMENT SO WE COULD HAVE THE MONEY TO BRING YOU GUYS UP?! ONLY TO REALISE THAT WE'RE LIKE COWS, WORKING DAY AND NIGHT JUST TO GIVE YOU MONEY TO WATCH MOVIES, DRINK COFFEE AND ENTERTAIN YOURSELVES!!"... all this, and everything else mentioned in the first round of argument.
That was really the last straw. I dumped my yoghurt cup and went upstairs to feel hateful and guilty and horrible and terrible and sad and lonely and pessimistic and self-destuctive all at the same time. I shut myself in my room and cried to make myself feel more human than the mechanic, made-up cheerful girl I've always been in front of people.
And no sooner have I felt human I hear the call of mechanism in the form of a loud abrupt knocking on the door and a somewhat angry but slightly more cheerful voice saying, "Open the door. Stop it. I know your pattern, okay."
And I tell her, trying not to sound like I had been emotional, "Just go do your other stuff. I don't like to talk when you're so agitated."
"I like to see you cry, cannot ah?"
Riiiiiiggghhtt. I'm cornered again.
Suddenly she's smiling again and handing me $50.
So I went through all this emotional trauma and dramatic tension (literally) to get $50. Only I have to report everything I buy. EVERYTHING, right down to the last cent.
So now I'm really confused. Is this freedom? Of course it is since I still do have freedom of thought and freedom of speech (and that's with freedom of violent objections and reactions). But do I have to go through all this trauma just to get what I want? Do I have to act like a spoilt brat just to fulfil my desires? Maybe it's somehow good that they do usually give in in the end but now the emotional roller-coaster ride is putting me off asking them for anything. Even questions that begin with "What do you think of......" must end in an argument and makes me not want to talk to them anymore since I don't like talking to people who are emotionally challenged. And requests often end in tears and more household laws. They're not even outrageous requests. Just $50 to buy a band tee, a guitar strap, a pair of arm warmers and a nice hot grande-sized soy capuccino from Starbucks.
Okaaaaaaaayyy I really sound like a big fat spoilt brat.
But what can I do? I get the feeling that I'm living in some Stalinist state.
[fangying] [9:57 PM]
