Week to Slow in Passing
Monday, May 26th, 2008
This may sound blasphemous and I may be strike down by lighting for saying this but… I’m sick of my parents being here. Mum not so much but dad is getting on my nerves.
Two week has gone by since they were here. That is two weeks of acting. It is tiring putting on this mask and covering myself with sheepskin. The noose around my neck loosens each time I leave the house. Just today, I was lying on the ground under the tree in South Lawn, relaxing, and perhaps letting out a breath of relief for the peace and quiet that I’ve been awarded. That sense of freedom, if only for a brief moment, is sweeter than nectar.
It is not that I do not like having their company. Me, being myself, loathes when people impose their believes and rules on me. I see things differently than you. And you see things differently than me. Another will also see things differently to you and I. So let me ask, why do you have to force your will upon others hoping they will bend to your fold? Even if you can by force of will, no one will willingly on their own free will change their opinions just like that. All you’ll get are just wolves in sheepskins waiting to pounce and rebel back at you.
Almost five years ago, I was turning my back to them, dragging with me my worldly possessions, heading across the ocean to a new place. A new beginning, a new experience, and most importantly towards new found freedom. I know my mum was in tears. She is sad to let me go. Though it pains my heart knowing she was crying, I was more excited about this journey. I was smiling. Blasphemous I know. But years in chains makes this journey all the more sweeter.
I managed to start my life anew here. No more pass baggage nor reputation to uphold. No more masks to wear nor persona to slip into. For the first time in eighteen years, I was finally able to be myself. But every time I go back to visit them, or they fly over to visit me, I find myself digging out that dusty old chest, pulling out that familiar mask and putting it on. How many times must I do this? I’ve tried so many times to resist the power of the mask – the power to avoid conflict, but each time it was in vain. It was simply just too easy to don it once again.
Over the past few months, I began to rebel. Little by little. Slowly but surely, in time I will be able to cast aside the mask. However, for now, slipping into the mask is just too easy. With that said, time to put on that bloody mask and smile over the next painfully slow week. Just … one … more … week.
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