Dear Al,
How are things there? I know you’re busy and I know you have a lot in your hands right now but I just wanted to know—how many blows do I have to take before you’ll consider my debts paid? I know my mother owes you as well (big time) but is it fair that I should pay for them too? Naaaahhh, delete that last comment…I want to pay for them anyhow, You (amongst everyone else) know how much my family means to me…I just don’t understand why I have to go through all these after going through them so many times in the past…I also don’t appreciate things being shown to me, offered to me which then gave me the impression that they were “to be mine” when they simply were (just) for a show…a little spectacle, a little taste, a little whiff — that is all? I don’t know how much I can take…Just a little request, if those blows will still keep on coming, can you put on gloves? I’ll appreciate it very much. Thank you.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
Happy New Year
what do you do with dead arms? nothing…absolutely nothing.
January 1, 2009 — my sister and i celebrated the New Year with a screaming match…she, sitting on the small dining table and peeling the soft shells of the poor shrimps that my mother carefully prepared for her while i, was standing (with my unkempt hair and unbrushed teeth) ready to wring her neck and knock some sense into her rotting brain…
4:05 AM, she woke us up with a text message where she was begging to be picked up…my mother, despite of her lack of sleep, stood up and tried to drag me in picking up my supposed “older” sister… i then called my sister where she then greeted me hysterically crying, specifically asking for my mother (as she refused to talk to me)…
FAST FORWARD…she arrived at my mother’s house two hours after (with eyes which looked like she had periorbital edema and dirty, dirty feet)…we found out later that her husband “unknowingly” made a punch bag out of her after she raised the issue of a possible third party that the as*hole strongly denied…we, then again, discovered much, much later that they started throwing beer bottles at each other (in front of their only son) and my sister, in her crazed rage, stabbed her husband (FINALLY!)…try not to worry—he is still alive with only a few stitches as proof.
you might be wondering “errr, Den, what caused the screaming match again?”…well, the usual issue…she gets into trouble, we help her…she needed support, we help her…she needed money, we help her…ets, etc…by the way, lately i have not been of great help to her so i guess the “we” here only refer to our parents…but then, she always forgives him and goes running back despite of our objections…we always had to take the back seat and it was getting tiring…hence, explaining the screaming match…
it’s done…she has to grow up and start thinking (as she has not been using her brain for the past 11 years)…as they say: FLUSH YOUR OWN SHIT!
what you do with dead arms again???nothing.
January 1, 2009 — my sister and i celebrated the New Year with a screaming match…she, sitting on the small dining table and peeling the soft shells of the poor shrimps that my mother carefully prepared for her while i, was standing (with my unkempt hair and unbrushed teeth) ready to wring her neck and knock some sense into her rotting brain…
4:05 AM, she woke us up with a text message where she was begging to be picked up…my mother, despite of her lack of sleep, stood up and tried to drag me in picking up my supposed “older” sister… i then called my sister where she then greeted me hysterically crying, specifically asking for my mother (as she refused to talk to me)…
FAST FORWARD…she arrived at my mother’s house two hours after (with eyes which looked like she had periorbital edema and dirty, dirty feet)…we found out later that her husband “unknowingly” made a punch bag out of her after she raised the issue of a possible third party that the as*hole strongly denied…we, then again, discovered much, much later that they started throwing beer bottles at each other (in front of their only son) and my sister, in her crazed rage, stabbed her husband (FINALLY!)…try not to worry—he is still alive with only a few stitches as proof.
you might be wondering “errr, Den, what caused the screaming match again?”…well, the usual issue…she gets into trouble, we help her…she needed support, we help her…she needed money, we help her…ets, etc…by the way, lately i have not been of great help to her so i guess the “we” here only refer to our parents…but then, she always forgives him and goes running back despite of our objections…we always had to take the back seat and it was getting tiring…hence, explaining the screaming match…
it’s done…she has to grow up and start thinking (as she has not been using her brain for the past 11 years)…as they say: FLUSH YOUR OWN SHIT!
what you do with dead arms again???nothing.
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