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Deep Red by Vamps

I am utterly disgusted by all the rubbish certain people spout off the top of their head. I really do not like to stereotype, but these people belong to the adult category. As in, all of them are older than 21. Which seems to be some warped turning point where you decide to piss off everyone who isn't older than 21?! I have never thought of it that way before this week started. I'm serious. I am so frustrated by the signs of foolishness I see everywhere around me. It really makes me wonder why I actually bother trying to enter the 'adult' world. Oh right. Its because they outnumber us. They surround us. Drag us down to their level. And then proceed to beat us with experience in being an idiot. All I can say is, I'm floored.

Anyway. In reverse chronological order. First up was my relative, X. I GUESS. And this is a really huge question mark, but I suppose X means well. I shall be nice and kind and give X the benefit of the doubt. I mean. I'm under 21! So here goes our conversation. Or rather, exchange. Err. Wait. It was just a few lines. Or less than that. ANYWAY.

X: WOW, you cannot speak Cantonese?
Me: Eh. Yeah. Why?
X: Aren't you a failure? I mean, in Singapore and you cannot speak Cantonese.
Me: (internally) DAMN YOU, YOU FREAKING BASTARD. WHO THE SHIT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE?!

Ah. Relatives. You hate them and you cant show it. You like them and you exaggerate it by the power of a hundred. Me? A failure? What does that make you? Oh. A greater failure. HAHA. I can speak my own dialect just fine. I can understand Hokkien, Teochew and Hakka. I can name all the Hongkong Dim Sum staples. I don't NEED to speak Cantonese asshole. In Singapore, we use English, Mandarin and mostly Hokkien at the hawker stalls. I can espouse a smattering of Japanese. Believe me, the next language I intend to pick up is French. So that I can string vulgarities into a silk handkerchief. It'll sound fabulous. Like wiping my ass with silk. So there. Get out off my face before I upend my stomach of what I ate today.

Next we have Y. Dear me. Y is an exhibition of infantilism in its most extreme form. Everything a child, under one years old, does is cute. When someone older than 21 does it, its bloody irritating. We, the people who make the rules of society, say it smacks of immaturity. Ridiculous. We call people who dont grow up retards. You know? Retarded growth? HAHA. The idea Y has is something along the lines of "You're cheating (bending the rules a little) , so I'll cheat MORE!" and "I want everything you have, but bigger!", plus, "I like this, so I must have this!" with a little of "They must like me more than they like you!". Notice the intensifying exclamation marks? Goodness gracious me. I thought I left this behind in pre-school. Apparently not. Imagine this acted out in all its gory embarassment by someone who is supposed to be a role model to us unrefined and childish teenagers. Its a public affront. My poor, delicate social sensiblities are screaming in agony. I'm going to need to weekend to recover. Sniff, sniff. Make that an extended weekend.

Enter exhibit Z. Who is hell bent on living the way he is living. Z is always right. Z must be right. For he is the alpha and omega of everyone who exists on this planet. We all live to worship Z. We die as an offering to Z. Z is the all-wise. All-caring. Heck. Go screw yourself. Live in your own delusional world all you want. I dont care if you get high on stabbing teddy bears, feeding the gerbil or thinking about the mating habits of carnivorous fish. Whatever. Just dont include me in your edition of The Fantastic Tale of Z. Nor The Amazing Z. Most of all, The Ultimate Guide to Z. Please. Get a life. My life is strictly off-limits. You are not allowed to stick me in your two dimensional world. Do not pass GO, do not collect two hundred dollars.

I shall stop here. If I continue, I'll be no better than these little people. I have had enough.



"Pardon my French dearies. I'm learning a new language :)"