Ract-ory

This will be my first pre-made blog entry, and what will it be about? Hate. Well, not really, but irritation, agitation, ranting, and whatnot. (Is debating getting to me? Yes, it is.)

First of all, I hate it when people just take and move my stuff around without my permission. A prime example to this would be my mom. Actually, she’s the reason I’m making this right now, so there. She’s my irritant, the thorn in my (home) sight, and the person I feel like bashing the most. If I were not that polite (reserved), I'd have engaged in an all-out vocal battle with her by now. But, she's my mom, and even if I end up hating her guts at the end of the day, tolerance takes over… I want to take that back, sleep takes over, not tolerance. Mentally bashing your “thorns” at night is the best stress reliever I've got.

This parent of mine, she's an obsessive compulsive, that woman. Sometimes, I'd really love to take the opportunity to wring her scrawny neck. Can't she keep her hands to herself? She can clean the whole house, she can rearrange the layout of our living room, for all I care, and quite honestly, I see very little point in arranging and rearranging, decorating and beautifying your house if the only considerable time you spend there, you spend sleeping, but she has no right to fix my room. Nope. Nada. NO!

She complains when I leave my room in “disarray” and such, but I've already told her this: I leave it that way, because I want it that way. She says that if I pile my books onto the table, I should arrange them into some neat pile and shit. Well, that the point, shit, no shit. What's the point of doing it so? Does it make it easier for me to get my books?

There is no point in doing so, but only to please her neat freak state. Another thing, it’s MY room, not hers, not the public room, MINE. I have the right to arrange my room in any way I please, and most certainly have the power to decide on how “neat” I want it to be. If I want to leave my books and bags on the floor, in the morning, it should still be on the floor, not in the cabinet, not on the table, not on the chair, ON THE FLOOR!

My will and my will alone is what governs the state of my room. I like it this way, and she has no right to say otherwise and act on it, just because she said so. NO, not in my territory!

Man, that rant was long, and I’ve still got more.

Nag, nag, nag, yes this is certainly what parents do, but don’t you think that it would be wrong to nag, and only nag, when you talk about studies? (Ah, the rhetoric, this is my style.) Sure, it is more acceptable, but still not completely, to nag when there is a need to, but that’s why they named it nag, and not remind. Nagging is excessive reminding to the point of irritating the person you're reminding (nagging).

That’s my mom again. Where does encouragement and support come in when the only thing she talks about when referring to my studies, is that you don’t study enough, blah, blah, blah. Damnit! Has she not heard of, “The more you nag, the less he listens?” I simple drown her voice out when she gets into the you-must-study-study-study mode. There is no point in listening to a broken tape over and over again, most especially when you don’t even like listening to what you're hearing!

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My grandma and her nursemaid daughter have come vacationing over. And I don’t like it. Really, I don’t. I mean, she’s nice, my lola that is, and so is my aunt, but I just don’t like them much.

My grandma, well, what can I say but she's a good cook, but having to take care of an elderly woman is not my thing. I don’t like explaining the already obvious facts, like the mechanics of Kris Aquino’s Deal or No Deal. I simply don’t have the patience of such menial tasks. I cannot wait for some slow walking woman for long. I can stand to wait for someone for a while, but after that while has expired, the hell with you, I'm going on ahead. I'm no longer patient, at least not with menial and repetitive jobs like that.

And my aunt… What can I say but, even if she is one of my nicest aunts, as of now, she is my least favorite one. On one basic principle, she acts more like a maid than my aunt. She asks if she can do this for me, like carrying my school junk, or accompanying me the bathroom (?!). The fuck with that, carrying the books, is pretty much okay with me, but going to the bathroom?! Hell, no! Shit, no! FUCK, NO!!! As if, I’m 15 years old now, hello? Are you even oblivious to that fact? I'm a few inches taller than you and that still blinds your eyes?

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Finally, out with the bad mood, in with the good mood, out with the bad mood, in with the good mood… You see? I don't often use ALL CAPS, but here it appears quite a few times.

More next time, this has gotten quite long…