Perfect To Your Demand

Maybe just once. Please, just once. Just once... Stop... But by every waking moment passing, it does not stop. One by one, your words continue to pierce through my heart.

Must every word that comes out from your mouth jab right through me? Must everything you say be a direct straight hit towards me? Must you be so angry with me? Is everything I do horrid and displeasing to you? And above all, what do you want from me?

Perfect. A word with indefinite meaning. But nevertheless all definitions evolve around a simple common meaning- to be excellent or complete beyond practical or theoretical improvement. [www.dictionary.com] Now, is that what you expect from me? Would you like me to be that
"perfect" person for you? Do you want me to be everything YOU wanted? Should I lose all that matters to me, to fulfill YOUR wishes? Is that what you want?

Thus may I conclude that everything that matters to me, everything I live for, MY morals shall be forgotten? Shall they be nothing more than a yesterday's dream? And here I am, being pulled in half. My morals and your wishes. Is it fair to have me lose all I care, just so you can be satisfied? Is it really true? Do I really exist to fulfill your every wish?

But of course, I strongly agree, I do live because of you. But is life as we know it, just a cycle? That you, the gardener who has given me life. And that my life is to be dedicated to serve you, my life giver. And is it really true, as you say, that my life is to only be lived to prepare you "fruits" and have no other purpose in life? If so, I rather die today, than to ever think of this- my life was made to fulfill yours.

Faces and Walls

To every problem, there are two stories. Sometimes three. Your side, their side, and occasionally the truth. Not only is this true to stories, problems, and whatnot; but to people and life as well. Even if it seems as if there's only one side to point, there is always more to it, and these points may not always be just what it seem. As we all have often heard, how you see a glass with water, holds our standing to our personality. Some may say a half filled glass and be judged as a optimist, while others are being called as a pessimist for saying the glass is half empty. But truly, must we actually let this simple test represent us as a whole? If you were to ask me, the obvious answer can easily represented as a NO. Maybe the person just chose half empty, because that was what they were taught. Or maybe that's just simply how they want to say it as. Who knows, but whatever the case, to this experiment, all I can say is that there are two faces- one to the world and one to themselves.

Like this, we- and life in general aren't too different. We all have this reputation where we build this wall for ourselves to please the eyes of society. And behind this wall, we silently hide our true feelings. In some cases, there's others who are built with double firewalls- one the world assumes and one they tell the world, while their true problems deeply buried inside. So, may I ask you, which is you?

Never-Ending Issue

A hole in the heart. A pain that never fails to come back. And always followed by the same question that every other being ask, why me? Why me, why not her, why not him? Why not them, why must it be me? And nevertheless comes the self-centered and the-world-evolves-around-me thoughts. It's not as if I want much. It's not that I want everything. Maybe just a little more attention, or, I just want that game, nothing else. Is that just oh-so wrong? Even as bad as it may be, just sometimes, this hole breaks open-no matter how much it was mended-it just leaks out some of the pain and these horrible thoughts.

With every problem or issue, there is always a solution. I could just tell you all I want and end it all , or perhaps even tell you that I want some attention and work it out from there on. As good as that may sound, I am a girl and that may seem a bit bratty and desperate for my own comfort; and that is the last thing I ever want to do. But since your constantly away or busy or focused on other things, and that I don't want to be the one to ask or to tell you what peeves me, nothing is being solved.

Just sometimes

Sometimes. Just once in a while. Not all the time. It's not as if I wish I was dead, or anything of that such. But just that I have a rare, one of a kind disease. I wish I had a disease that would make me die in any moments time. A disease that would cause me pain and suffering, a disease that would be my excuse when tears roll down my face. A disease that will not just cause me agony but would instead be my distraction from the endless pain that life itself has cause me.

Yes, just sometimes. Sometimes I wish I would have merely three months to live. Just sometimes, I wish my life was heading its end. That way I would be able to let all the tears just flow out, so I won't have to deal with the annoyance that certain beings have given me. So I can go up to them and just tell them, Do as you please, because where I am going, you will not be able to follow, and simply just laugh as I walk away.

Just sometimes, only sometimes, I can't stop to wish I was infected by a disease, or be on end of the rope.

The Green Monster

I am hopeless. I am doubtful. I am angry. I am confused. I am disappointed. But before I know it, I am slowly eaten away by the green little monster.

As wrong as it seems, I can't seem to get over this insecurity. Maybe its just me, maybe. Maybe the pain of seeing you interested on other things is just a bit too overwhelming for me. Maybe it's the distance you've kept from me that's giving me the illusion of being further away than what I really am. Or maybe it's just the female hormones kicking in again. Just maybe... But whatever the reason may be, this doesn't keep the little green monster from being filled with envy for the ones you have time for and the ones you rather spend time on.

One way or another, this green monster continues to eat me away till I'm no more. As I try to diffuse the explosion, I slowly become a bit more distant from you. I run to my one-way-trip-getaway towards my other love addiction. The green monster slows down and begins to break down, a little at a time as I take in the addiction. In a moments of time, the green monster cease to existence, as I slowly fall down to the aftermath.

My Worth

So tell me, what am I to you? What is my worth to you? Am I someone you simpling can't live without or would life be better off if I was gone? Go ahead, say I'm the world to you, tell me I'm the one you can't be without. Sure, go for it. Words are meaningless anyways...

But strangely I can't stop thinking about the things you say to me. Am I really the one you actually care about? There are days when it seems, as if it may be just lies. It's as if I'm just there for your entertainment. It seems if I'm just there to satisfy you. To help you when you need my help, to just be there when you need me to, and to easily dispose of when I have nothing else to give.

This pain continues to grow, yet I cannot share it with you. I cannot tell you what peeves me, or what is causing me to suffer. I am to only be there to make sure your needs are being taken care of, not mines. So tell me again, what am I to you? No-show me what I am to you.

Home

I have no home. But I'll admit I live somewhere. If you were to ask me where I live, I tell you the address. But if you asked me where's my house, I'll say nowhere.

Home. I heard it's a place you can call your own. I heard it's a place to feel at ease, that nothing can harm you. Is that really it? I don't know, but for sure I know I don't have it. The house I'm in is simply no different from prison. Always angry or sick, always looking for a way out, dealing with people you despise. I'm not like those everyday teenagers kids you see on TV. I am not trying to go out with my friends to late night parties and what not, I am not trying to get away from my parents, nor am I sick of facing them everyday. No- I am just merely tired of the parasite, or shall I say parasites, in the house.

My uncle, aunt (which I would prefer calling them parasites) and their poor child lives with my family and grandparents. Day by day, night by night, the couple would occupy themselves with important duties. These duties would invole going out without the child, watching TV while leaving the child crying, worrying about their jobs instead of the child, and much more. Oh why yes, these are highly important compared to their mere attention-starved child. Everyday I would hear the child cry on the top of his lungs, while the father is away, the mother would be too busy satisfying her friends. She would leave my grandma to babysit sometimes, but she is old and tired. And the child would certainly not pick his grandma over his mother, thus his crying would continue.

There are more problems besides this one with my uncle and aunt. And because of this I would never have a place to call home, till then 'home sweet home' is another word that is to be defined and I would be always trapped in 'the house'.

Nobody

A nobody. Yes, a nobody. A perfect label for a person like me. Invisible, forgotten, a no one- all perfect descriptions for a person like me.

I'm just another girl in the crowd. My so-called friends and my oh-so-supportive family calls me Jessica Tang. But it is just a meaningless name for a meaningless person. A perfect match. There is no hidden meaning, there is nothing unique, nothing special; just an empty name. But little do they know, the secrets I've kept ; the stories waiting for the right moment, the right person to share with; the hopes and dreams I've always long for. No, not one of them, not one of them understands these dreams and pain I've kept bottled deep inside. For now until that day comes, I will always be a forgotten lock forever waiting for the correct combination to be cracked.

No one understands. To them I'm merely a nobody. My name is Jessica Tang and I am a nobody.