The Most Evil Person — Me?

Interesting.

I do admit. I hate school work. I don’t do them. I sometimes disregard other people’s orders and such… but… come to think of it? Who doesn’t? Now before you tell me “It doesn’t mean that because everybody is doing it, it is right.” Let me explain myself. It’s not that I’m jumping in the bandwagon. It’s just that it’s human nature–something beyond my control (slightly in my control… but a little bit not there).

I’m not trying to lift my own chair. I’m a bit of a narcissist though, but I’m not biased, even when it comes to self-evaluation. But… I think as a person in general… I’m a good person. I have a good heart. I never ever keep anger in my heart. For some sad and unfortunate reasons, I don’t have the capacity to keep anger. Maybe yeah–maybe it’s because of my smiley-smiley personality–which I’m beginning to hate by the way. Not a lot of people could catch me on a frustrated mood, mostly because I keep it all inside. I hate dragging people into this whole ‘anger ordeal’. This is why I blog about the frustrations that I have. So that I’ll remember. I’ll remember it all… when the anger surpasses…. the wounds are still there… but I would have a smile on my face–because I am strong. Because one day when I look back at my anger posts, I’ll realize “Hey. I’m okay right now. And you know what? I made myself okay… even without dragging people into my pit of despair.“

But there are just some times… where blogging is not helpful. Just like this moment. I don’t feel suicidal right now. But I feel like… I’m unappreciated? That people couldn’t see what I do for them.

“I love you.” I’ve never even said that phrase to my mother yet. But, does that mean that I don’t love her? As a matter of fact, I do. I do love her more than I do love myself. (Yay! I followed God’s commandment! To love your neighbor before yourself!!). I love her so much that I feel so offended because there are some certain people who say that I don’t. I love her so much. But… I’m just not expressive nor touchy. Well for that, I’m sorry. But that doesn’t lessen my love for her. Because I love her a lot. I really do.

Grandma, do you know why I’m crying because of you? Do you know why I’m hurting? Because you… out of all people… would be the one to call me evil. You… out of all the people… would be the one to call me as a rude daughter who doesn’t love her mother. And you… out of all people… are blaming me for stuff that I don’t deserve. And most of all… it hurts because you’re disgracing my mom’s name in front of me. My mom… who is my strength–the greatest source of strength. So everytime you do disgrace her, you’re stepping on my strength… you make me feel weak. You make me feel so sad and depressed.

It hurts so much that I want to shout at you and tell you all of the things I just said right now. It hurts so much… that I want to beg you to stop hurting me. It hurts so much… and what makes it hurt most… is because I can’t tell you nor anybody that it hurts so much.

It hurts so much. But I will smile… even though my smile would end with tears. I will. But how come as every minute, every insult, every harsh comment passes by… I feel like I couldn’t take it anymore? I feel like I couldn’t breathe. I feel… so violated.