FUCK FATHERS' DAY

Today's Fathers' Day.

Fuck Fathers' Day.

I mean it.

This day meant to commemorate all the good that a father can do for his family, for his children...

It can go fuck itself multiple times with a fucking cactus.

I hate Fathers' Day, mainly because I hate my dad.

Okay, no. Forget MAINLY.

I hate Fathers' Day BECAUSE I hate my dad.

Look, I wished him "Happy Fathers' Day" when he woke up.

It's just to be polite, but I was trying, okay?
I promised myself I wouldn't pick fights on a day that was meant to be HAPPY.

So far so good, but then guess what.

Not TWO SECONDS after I wished him, what did he do?

He YELLED at me for mopping the floor "wrongly".

Look, as far as I'm concerned, mopping the floor just means that the floor has to be covered with a thin sheet of soapy water and left to dry.

And when I vacuum and mop the floor, I always make sure I do a decent job.

But this ASSHOLE was telling me that what I was doing was WRONG just because I wasn't doing it the way he does.

Fine, I let it go.

This is something I do on a daily basis, so I was all "fine, whatever".

If you think you can do a better job, by all means.

I'll just sit back and relax while you do it then.

Then breakfast.

It was the usual - I sit at my side of the table and eat, while my parents sit on the other side and share their food and talk in fucking Hokkien.

If you don't know how much that pisses me off, you don't know me very well.

It's lonely like this, it's very literally one of those feeling-lonely-in-a-crowded-room scenarios.

And I hate it.

The straw that broke my back was when my mum pulled me aside and warned me to stop giving "attitude" because she didn't want to quarrel with me on a Sunday.

Can you believe it?!

Cos I sure can't.

I'd been keeping quiet, letting a shitload of trigger points go, telling myself not to blow up or break down because I was a strong person and strong people do not break down.

And now my mum was telling me not to give ATTITUDE.

I just told her that I didn't want to fight either and walked off.

Sure, now she'll think that I'm a problem child (like she always does, I'm a fucking delinquent) but hey, I save myself the pain of having to argue with her in public and letting it affect my work.

The irony of all this is that I'm covering a Fathers' Day event later for work.

It'll take everything I have not to destroy the whole damned exhibit.

Frankly speaking...

I love my mum dearly, but she'll always side her husband instead of her daughter.

She thinks I'm a problem child because I'm sarcastic and snarky and witty.

Look, sarcasm is a sign of quick intelligence, the ability to think fast on your feet.

So I don't see the problem with being sarcastic, it's a part of me that's true and can't be hidden behind a mask.

And look.

I'm an only child.

Loneliness is something I've had to deal with for close to 19 years.

It's exhausting.

And sometimes all I want is some attention, like I just really crave attention and love, okay?
All I want is to be loved, to be wanted.

But I can't get my mum's attention because she's always with my dad.

Giving all her attention to him, barely sparing me a glance.

When I talk to her, she looks annoyed, and that hurts me more than I'll ever care to admit.

I feel like screaming sometimes, it's like all I ever wanted was her attention, is that really too much to ask for?

Instead all I get is a long list of things she hates about me.

My handwriting.

My personality.

My love for acting.

My love for coffee.

My love for the goth subculture.

My love for death and dark things.

The fact that all I want is to be loved.

Fantastic, mum, really.

And my dad?
He's an asswipe.

I mean it.

He'll say things just to rile me up, and there's no way I can fight back because the moment I do, my mum goes all "Do you even know how exhausting it is to have to be sandwiched between you two? Everytime you fight I have to choose yada yada yada."
And that makes me even angrier because SHE'S NEVER SIDED WITH ME.

EVER.

So what's there for her to choose?
She'll just run to her darling husband like she always does.

I'm sick of it.

Someday I'll get away from this place.

Maybe go overseas or something.

Find a job, build a home for myself.

Start a new life.

Be who I am without having to hide or tone anything down.

Go someplace where people understand that sarcasm is fine because it shows wit.

Go someplace where I'll be wanted, where people will actually WANT to talk to me.

Someplace that isn't here.

In the meantime, I'm stuck here.

And I still have a Fathers' Day event to cover later.

So I'll say this again.

Fuck Fathers' Day.

I don't believe in celebrating someone who doesn't deserve to be celebrated.

And I'll celebrate it only when he proves to me that he's a good father because right now, "Father" is an honorary term that I have to use.

After all, I can't call him "That useless motherfucking asswipe" like I want to.