Archive for March, 2013

Why.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 28, 2013 by Michelle Kwek

You said we could be friends..

You said we could go back to before..

Now, why this?

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Disgusted.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 11, 2013 by Michelle Kwek

Why am I up at this hour blogging once again? Supposed to be studying but I’m just to disturbed now that it has come to my knowledge.

It’s been a long day, hectic week ahead and all I want is sleep. BUT angst just fills me now, let me blog and it will all be let out.

Why? Why are some people just so immature to say something like that in a social networking platform. I mean, I really do not see a point in whatever you just said. I understand everyone is free to think what they want and definitely have the right the say what they want as well. But sometimes, it is just a matter of whether it is the right place to say it.

com’on and grow up please. It’s not like you are still sucking from a bottle and learning your manners. Did you really think that was appropriate? and you said it all righteously. You know him well enough to say what you said? and you are someone of authority and people look up to you, and this is the kind of things you say.

I’m not even making sense now cause I’m quite angsty and if something bothers me enough to make me angsty, then it has really gone wrong. if I was the subject, I probably would not care less but because you are talking about someone I care about, someone I respect, I feel strongly.

ARGH.

Papa.

Posted in Uncategorized on March 9, 2013 by Michelle Kwek

In the past, I used to think that my father did not love me. Okay that sounds a little too harsh but rather, I felt that he loved my brother more than he loved me. Countless times we argued and each argument was a major one because neither of us would give in, both losing our tempers and subsquently probably a period of just pretending that my dad did not exist. Childish and immature of me I would say but at those points of time, no way was I able to think rationally, to realise how rude and disrespectful I had been. Why was it that each argument escalated so quickly without us realising it, why was each one so hurtful, why was it different from those I have had with others. The reason is now clear to me, my father and I are just too similar in characters. We are both short tempered, stubborn and we both talk too fast for our heads when we are angry. But now, I think my father’s temper has toned down quite a lot and I have lots to learn from him.

 

I still remember when we were younger, my brother and I were so mischievious that the cane become a common tool. Probably every week we would get caned, be it by my aunt who tried to discipline us for our greatgrandma who would only threaten us with the cane but could never bear to hit us, or my father who had returned after a long day of work only to listen to our misdeeds when he was at work. Each time my dad caned us, I would say it was a merciless session because he would lose his temper and lose control of his anger and I dare say that if witnessed by our peers, they would be horrified. But after each time, when I am still fuming mad, instead of pain (there was always clear cane markings), what I felt was anger, how I wished I could grow up and use the cane too. What a vengeful child I was:/ but during this time when I cried tears of anger, I would see my dad walking towards me with open arms, tearing as he approached. And his face would be ever so remorseful for the caning that just took place, and he would humbly apologise and each time my father said “sorry”, I would just break down because somehow, I realised how conflicted my dad must have been when he caned me, not wanted to hurt his children who he cared for dearly.

 

When I grew older, the canings stopped but the conflicts we had were more severe, just because my dad and I are too alike. My brother matured much faster than me, I have to admit. And he is a much more caring son as compared to the daughter I have been.

 

And why am I here in the midst of my revision (I have barely started and running out of time) making such a random post you might think. Because right in front of me is the man I have been talking about. The man I respect the most. The man whose love for me cannot be quantified.

 

My dad loves my brother more than me? Nah. Utter rubbish.

 

I slept the whole of today away and decided to study through the night at macs and he offered to send me since my mum would not allow me to drive by myself. And he said he would accompany me through the night and fetch me home after I am done when he could have easily asked me to take the first bus back or cab back. Why didn’t he ask me to call him when I am done so that he can stay at home to sleep and fetch me later? He was worried that he might sleep too deeply and miss my call. When I drove here just now, my father was sitting beside me, yawning away yet trying his best to do so discretely. I kept asking him if he was tired and wanted to go back, he replied as energetically as he could that he had stuff to do as well. But right now in front of me, my dad is looking really tired, and dozing off from time to time.

 

My dad loves me so much more than I could ever love him.

 

Papa, thank you. I love you too.