Damn. I getting hurt again today.
I didn't complain or say anything condescending!
My exact words if translated to English the best I can: "Do we still have that brown tiny flake pieces that's salty? It's like meat but not meat? The thing you usually tell me to add if something is too bland for me except soy sauce."
I didn't know what's it called in my language and my mom doesn't know English!
It's shredded dried pork. I think...
I just wanted an add of flavor!!! I saw it just a few days ago. I asked her if we still have some at home. I saw it in a ziplock bag.
But...
Look. I get my taste is very difficult to satisfy...
But fucking hell!!!
I just wanted to add a flavor to bland soup!
It's like a condiment!
Basically similar to when she adds green onions on top of a dish!
I said NOTHING about redoing the soup and cook it again!!!
All I ask is where something I recently saw is.
I didn't hate or despise her cooking or anything.
Now I feel hurt.
I just don't know the name so I tried to describe it to the best of my ability.
If you don't get it then I'll try asking one more time with gestures.
If not then forget it. It's not that important.
Damn...
Way to go on making me feel like a bitch.
A sensitive bitch too.
I can't tell if it's a good thing I'm able to calm my mood and get over it easily or what, but it doesn't change the fact I felt hurt and wanted to cry.
I didn't cry because I held back. But I teared up a bit.
The only grudge I ever held onto is something I can't even remember the cause of anymore.
I just hold onto it because I can never forget the overwhelming hatred and resentment.
It was destructive and full of malice.
It was like I wanted to prove something or show something.
But I let it go and isolated myself. I ran away. And for years I lost contact with everyone I knew.
I can't remember their names or faces.
What we talked about or did.
Whether I let go because I was cowardly and afraid or maybe I was able to reason with myself and kept my morals.
It's very hard to judge.
But I was a few steps away from crossing a line.
It was scary...
To describe it.
100 is the line of no return.
90 is losing all rationality and being taken over by emotions.
80 is fighting temptation while still having reasoning.
I was at 70 to 75. Or maybe a bit higher.
I knew what was in front of me. I knew the pros and cons of my decision. And I judged whether it was worth it for what I saw ahead in exchange for going crazy.
And I... did not want to become a demon crawling from hell.
As overwhelming as my emotions were. It wasn't enough.
Because at the same time I had no love or respect for myself. I felt my value was not worth it or worthy of thinking I have suffered enough.
I kept comparing and contrasting and my conclusion never changed.
"Ah."
"There are more who have it worse than me."
"I'm lucky to have what I have."
And even at those moments, I felt my thinking of reality and fantasy blurred.
Like how many protagonists have a dark history or a sad background, but they always kept going.
Whether they bled...
Got mutilated...
Crippled...
Or tortured...
They somehow preserved and kept going. Dragging their broken body.
And I think...
"Just kill me."
I can't even compare so how dare I say I have suffered.
It makes me feel so ashamed and pathetic.
YOU ARE READING
Diary
RandomI want to write out my thoughts as honestly as possible and try not to lie like I always do. Maybe by being anonymous will make me stop being a liar. I think it's a bit late to say this after publishing for about a month but I should put a warning. ...
