2013 Mother's Day

Mother's day. Not a very special occasion for my family.

We don't really make a fuss about it.

Like any other day, we usually fill Mother's Day (or Father's day) with hugs, laughter, food and lots of love--exactly what I love about my family.

 

This is perhaps only the second time that I'm not spending Mother's Day with my mom.

The other time when my mother was not with me on Mother's Day was in 1997.

She was in Canada, waiting to give birth to my brother, who was born in late May.

Today, I have lunch with my grandparents and relatives.

Why do I have to attend the 'celebration'?-- Maybe I'm just mentally tired, but I couldn't really process this and figure out why.

I called my parents this morning, had a long chat with them. 

So, what's the point of celebrating Mother's Day when my mum isn't even here?

Despite the awkwardness I feel, I was still there at the lunch.

Oops! Let's rewind a bit. 

Before the lunch, I broke down and cried like a baby, simply because I miss my mom too much and I didn't know what to do except crying it all out.

I was crying so hard that when my grandma saw me crying, she ended up crying herself too.

So basically the both of us ended up hugging and crying -- definitely not the best way to celebrate the day.

The only thing I want to do is to give my mom a big warm hug, like how we used to hug every single day.

And I'd love to share with her painting of Pino Daeni because some of his works remind me so much of my mum and the special moments we share.

Mom, thank you for being the most loving person in the world.
I grow up aspiring to be a loving woman just like you.
Miss you & love you. :')

Love,
N

Madness

These days, whenever I'm asked how I am feeling,
the answer in my head is "um...I think there is a Hulk inside me trying to break out. Help me."
while words that spill out from the tip of my tongue is "I'm okay, thank you."

Hypocrisy.

Even the tinniest thing makes me burn with anger.

For example that mega size rubber duck that is in town.
The madness is not the rubber duck itself, but the crowd that flooded the district just to see that rubber duck.

People in our time are the weirdest--they get impressed by basically everything.
That stupid game Candy Crush, a mega size rubber duck...how old are they really?

Even though I get angry, I didn't let it out.
No shouting, no screaming, no crying, no throwing a temper...just nothing and nowhere to channel it.
This anger just stays inside me, corrodes and gobbles me up alive.

There must be something wrong with me.
Is it stress, frustration, sadness, anger, or just the pure madness after mixing everything together?


Other than this anger coming from nowhere, the inner devil in me is driving me insane as well.
I wanna do all the bad and evil things.
I wanna destroy.

Why is it that the intolerably incomprehensibly bad things are always ineluctably, irresistibly fun to do?
The temptations creep underneath your skin, foil along a trail of synapses, pierce though your little brain cells which are cringing themselves in vain to stay morally vigilant...
But before you know it, you've already done it.

Why is it that doing the seemingly 'wrong' things always brings that inexplicably good feeling?
And they turn you into this person with 'stories to tell', making you so much more interesting, mysterious and attractive.

Pain and pleasure go hand in hand.
But sometimes, pleasure come and go and leaves the pain behind.

Looking at the scratch marks, I am terrified--what have I done?
With my fingertips, I gently trace the red, slightly swollen scratch marks one by one, hoping to ease the pain.
At that moment, I am most certain that there must be a monster in me.
Just an ugly, pure evil monster.
And it makes me a little scared...of myself.



Love,
N