Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Sugarcoatings

I cannot fully articulate how it pains me to believe that I have incurred my very first minor offense after three years in my stay in the university. The Discipline Officer who was kind enough to sympathize with me still did have a detached facade that even the typing of my letter of explanation felt very mechanical and cold to me. Damn it! My paranoia is eating me up.

It appears that my wallet, one which I kept dearly despite the many temptations of changing it, has disappeared from my total sight. I cannot fully admit to my irrevocable carelessness with my things since I also fancy that somebody may have taken the opportunity of infiltrating my backpack while I was at ease. My first two ID losses were equally depressing - the first being my favorite Chinese inspired wallet and the second, as a distasteful folly my mother played on me as revenge for inquiring her if she had taken my wallet.

I take great measures not to offend my mother by not retelling her the immense weight her trick has made on my student record. During my second year of college, out of fatigue, I have left my wallet in our car. When I had found the need for it, I searched profusely for the said item and found no traces of it. Being completely aware of bringing my wallet home, I decided to ask my mother (who left earlier the next day) if she had taken the liberty of keeping the said item. Such a statement angered her since she felt I was blaming her for a crime she did not commit, selecting her out - and I responded that she had done so once before, why would the present not be a simple reenactment. Her fury increased further than she banged the phone. I had no choice but to go to school and report of my supposed misfortune. Only to learn that my mother had kept my wallet even more longer since I had somehow spoiled her pride and thus needed to do necessary reparations. Until now, I feel a hateful disgust in my gut whenever reminded of that tale - such a regretful incident, yet she remains ignorant of the wrath her mockery has made today.

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I find myself completely different from my mother, and am in some way proud to be - which is to the deepest remorse of my relatives who find her manners saintly due to the circumstances she constantly impresses to them that she is in. I am an outcast in the eyes of my aunts and uncles and I guess that is the aftereffect of the sins of my parents. Their worldy tongues don't seem to find no contentment in solitude, and thus require words to occupy and satisfy their egos. Now, with all family secrets seemingly blatantly revealed to the public, what more secures us from their prying unjudging eyes, when those who are meant to shield us from such damnation took the joy of throwing us into hell.

I understand that what I write may prove not to be pleasing to those who would take time to read it, but I assure you, as well as myself that this is how I intend to keep track of my thoughts. In due time, my current occupations will seem alien, even to myself - and when such a time comes, I would've completely given up who I am now. What I write may not be what most people find endearing, nor noble, nor desirable - and yet these are my thoughts who I am giving birth to in the form of my words. I do not intend to sugarcoat them with fancy fictions and falsehoods since how else can I track my past when I have completely altered it's truer facts. Read if you must, not to be offended, but to be enlightened to my mores.

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