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Textpattern

No Place Like Home

2007-05-26 05:09

I hate my house. Those of you who know me well know how I hate my house. There's nothing to like.

Well, my relatives and all, but there's no THING to like. Everything is just… stuff. And now there's going to be more and more stuff being added every day.

I don't like it. I shouldn't complain, but it feels like my parents are trying to plug up an ever growing void with material goods.

It's just not my style.

Also, I'm not fond of my grandmother. She's suggesting that I become a doctor, just so I can earn a lot of money. I don't want to be a doctor. She won't understand that. She doesn't understand that I'm ignoring her right now, because I'd rather be happy than be so fucking STUCK. And she says to find a guy that earns a lot of money. I KNOW ITS HER CULTURE, BUT IT'S NOT FAIR FOR HER TO BRING HER PREJUDICES HERE, ON ME, ON SOMEONE SHE BARELY KNOWS. In fact, it's not fair for prejudices at all! I can't ask her to stop telling me this, because she doesn't understand English, and I can't speak in her language. And as far as I know, my parents are supporting her, so they're not going to translate for me either, since I understand and SHOULD listen to what she's saying.

I hate this. I hate all of this. If I die doing something noble and worthy, while being piss poor, I think I would be happier.

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