OH, so that’s what this morning was about.

I was expecting that. Now why did I let it affect me that much? I mean, I was prepared for it. I guess it just slipped my mind because we were having a relatively happy meal (does happy mean anything to you?) and then it was decided that, since everyone’s HAPPY, let’s drop the big bomb.

Right. Now I remember why it affected me that much. What the heck? How could I have left my guard down like that? You know what? That’s the most vulnerable position anyone could be put in. No wonder bullies find people’s weak spots and attack when they’re least expecting. God, gotta learn to be quicker than that!! Time to learn that ‘It’s not okay to be okay’. Seriously.

So I guess everyone’s HAPPY now. (OH, they are. They’re chatting happily about things I don’t want to listen to at all) Because I am. Now that I’ve pieced myself together, it’s not going to bother me even if that means breaking down in a god damned bathroom. But then again, does anyone really care, I ask myself? Care. What a strange word. Hoho, you can care for the world but that doesn’t mean the world has to care for you.

Oh, and by the way, while we’re at it, let’s baby the world but let them off the hook when we need help, why don’t we?

Let’s start with listening to all those complaints about stomachaches and painful eyebrows.

And let’s continue with bones in a chicken and ways we can create mammals without bones.

‘Why don’t you let them carry it?’ Why? Why don’t we let them carry it? Why not we think about why they never OFFER to carry it?

In fact, WOWZERS. These are great. Someone should write a book about it.

When people accidentally drink hot soup too quickly, we all fuss about them as if the world will end because of a burnt tongue.

But when other more important things which traumatize others happen, we say, it’s okay, they didn’t mean it. Weird world, innit?

Let’s go back to everyone being happy! Let those back here suffer while others prosper and enjoy the worldly goods the world has to offer. Doesn’t matter because some people are just so needy, they’re so old, they need a babysitter. We can suffer back here, sure we can. Aren’t we  used to it? Isn’t this the way of life?

What do you have to feel uncomfortable about? My say don’t count so it don’t matter either way, right? What more can I say indeed?

Being fake becomes second nature to us when we live in a lie. We put on smiles, encourage others to do what they want to do just because it makes them happy, laugh along with them even though you feel like doing anything but laughing. But sometimes, being fake is tiring. Don’t we all just wanna let that fake smile slide and cry our hearts out sometimes?

And being the supportive one in the lot comes from realizing that no one else is going to care. So what do we do? Hold their hands in their times of need, hug them and keep telling yourself and them that everything’s gonna be just fine, make them smile, cry along with them, tell them things they want to hear, repeat those things because they don’t believe it, notice when their smiles fade into frowns, notice when their sniffles aren’t just sniffles, go everywhere with them just to make them feel good. But sometimes, being supportive gets tiring too. You want to be supported too. But you can’t give in until you know the other person is going to be okay.

After that, what happens? They forget. Or they don’t care. Again. Care is a strange word. It is, shall we say, a difficult position. We always want to care but should we always?

And why do people care for people who don’t care? Especially those who have wronged you in so many ways, you wish you could turn back the hands of the clock so that you could’ve done the right thing? Especially those who have never cared for you?

What becomes of the people who have cared (so deeply, I emphasize) for you?

And there’s no one I can talk to now that you’ve gone over to the dark side. I feel empty. The day you weren’t at home, things were nasty and I wanted so badly for you to be there. And I was just telling them, God, you’re the only person who understands me. Now you’ve gone and joined the dark side while I can only stand by the sidelines and pretend to cheer you on.

I can’t talk to anybody because they’re like, Why can’t you be a little more supportive and make them happy so that their journey will be happy too? Well, I can’t. Because I’m not happy and I’m sick and tired of pretending to be happy when I’m not.

Frankly, I don’t wanna listen to your silly little happy stories and plans because all I feel like doing is punching the person who is causing all this in the first place. And I don’t want to follow you anywhere if it has anything to do with those silly little happy stories and plans. I want to crank up the volume when you talk about your silly little happy stories and plans because I hate listening to them.

I just want to stand in the crowd, say goodbye as fast as I can then go home because I’ll hate that moment. I know I will. Let’s just get this over with so that I can hate you and the cause properly.

A part of me will always hate the cause. There’s no undoing it. I hope one day I can forgive him but until then, this grudge is staying. And I hate it when people talk to me with cheery tones. They can’t even see how I feel. How sensitive. I want to punch his lights out and maybe hit him a few times just so he knows how I feel. Of course, no matter what I do, I’ll always be wrong. So no punching lights for me.

I’m feeling so bitter, I could spit out citrus peel faster than a machine gun. But this too shall pass. Why? Because I always let people be. Time and time again. How retardedly noble I sound.

I want to sleep until the storm passes. But that’s difficult, considering it’s gonna be another month and a half.

Bon voyage.