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.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
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'.
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'.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
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.
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.
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