Wishful Thinker

talk (rant)

180303

first of all, you don't tell someone what to do.
or more specifically, me.

sometimes i choose not to talk, or pretend being mute, because I simply know there's nothing to be talked about and it would not make any slight difference if I talked or not. I don't have much tales to be told, my life's not that interesting anyway. and I'm always reluctant to interject in any conversations cause I was taught not to.

but I was asked to talk.

and never have I ever wished that I was born mute. they say just talk about anything but there's nothing along the lines of anything to me. what do they mean by anything, tell them that I bought fried rice at the school canteen last week? or that I murdered a milipede with a tissue roll stand at 2 a.m? or that I was given an addmath homework on page 24 of my textbook? are those the things you're telling me to tell you? and I don't think not telling you that my school held a sports day last week is a strong reason for you to lash out your anger on me. c'mon, I don't live to tell every single thing that happens in my life.

because I'm not like them. I just listen to them talking about their friends or life or stuffs like everyday, the bright and dark sides of the community and what they should've done and what they should've not and blah blah. and it's starting to get on my nerves really, the way they point out the flaws of those people they were talking about . I was always like dude chill it's not that serious lah there's no need to put much emphasis on it plus you're talking like you wanted the whole neighborhood to know about it too. volume down. microphones are invented for a reason .

I never really get comfortable telling about myself, or what happens in my daily life let alone my personal problems, I prefer writing about them. this way is much much more comfortable. to say that I'm scared to open up, that would make sense, cause I stayed in the dungeon for as long as I can remember, and maybe that's why the world scares me. so much.

then again, I was told to talk.

screw it.

I was given a lecture at the dining table about why I should talk more often.

and I never wanted to run to the bathroom more at the moment.

apparently, according to them, I had this resting bïtch face for the whole day even when we were hanging out. I mean where's my fault? I was born with this face anyway. do you expect me to smile all the time like a madman or sth? plus I hadn't talked a single word since morning. that wasn't exactly true though. they tend to put much exaggeration to strengthen their proof but I talked, really. but mostly to myself.

and I still don't understand why I was asked to talk.

neither the other ludicrous rules they had set for me .