Monday, June 24, 2013

Don't want to turn 25

You know 25 is a curse when your mother starts blaming you for everything that goes wrong in the house and never forgets to add your age to it.
'You're 25, you don't even know how to cook an entire meal.'
'You're 25, you should know we need to go grocery shopping!'
'You're 25, at your age I was married and had a kid!'
(I could do that without getting married too. *chuckle chuckle*)
'You're 25, and all you do is sit with a laptop and a phone. No human interaction!'
'You're 25, I plan to get you married off next year and look at you. You just lazily lie there like a fool, ignoring me.'
'You're 25, you need to start taking care of us old parents.'
And when there's nothing to blame:
'You're 25. Do you realise you're 25?!'
(Okay mom, and your point is?)

There are still 18 days to go for my 25th birthday, and I'm so not excited about turning 25. I don't know how 25 is any different from 24, except that it's neither early 20s nor late 20s. How does everything that I need to know suddenly get connected to my age? Does 25 come with an invisible dose of maturity? Does 25 mean I need to suddenly get rid of my phone and laptop and start interacting with random relatives so that they know I'm 25? What's with that rule where 25 becomes the best age to get married? What if I cannot cook for the rest of my life, will I not qualify to turn 25 then? Mom, you need to stop fretting over my age. Keep your BP under control. See, I care about you, my old parent. I'm 25 and I realise I'm 25, because 1988 was the year when I was born. How growing up has anything to do with the year of birth, I fail to understand.

I still feel like a careless 16 year old. I want to do everything my mom doesn't want me to. I want to grab a beer with my friends over weekends and not worry about an over-possessive husband or a house that needs my attention. I want to sit and talk to my friends in the U.S over the Internet. I want to read books online and whatsapp my friends. I want to work and probably not care about coming back home at all. I want to travel. I want to make mistakes and learn. And I want to turn 25 only when I feel old enough to turn 25, which may or may not happen at all. Momma, you're not wrong, but this is one of those grey areas where I don't think I'm wrong either! :D

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Ad-dress-ed To You

Why can't you be mine?

Why do you have to look so lovely with her and not me?

Why is it that every time I want you, I can already see how you're just not made for me?

How can you be so shallow to go with her just because she's thin, attractive and rich?

Why don't you understand how much I love and want to be with you?

I'm shattered.

I'm broken.

You leave me feeling like a fat, worthless piece of outdated furniture.

I have no hope of being with you or anyone remotely like you for the rest of my life.

I hate you.

Yes, I hate you, you over-expensive, size 0 little black dress that's not available in my size and will never look good on me because I'm overweight. :[ I hate you. Go fit those skinny girls who starve to death.