and who better to call you a whore than your mom?

i've been just told that i'm a fucking whore. of all people but my mom (non-biological mom though but that explains everything). yes. how fucking sweet and thoughtful.

how does it feel?, an under-paid shrink might ask. it's like being stabbed a hundred times more than how many julius caesar had. or being cheated on by Gian a thousand-fold. or a hot chilli dog dipped in wasabe sauce. i prefer the last one. im masochistic and hernia-prone like that.

for crying the fuck out loud i'm not a kid mom. i'm almost 26 years old now and i run my own unit in the bank. i'm responsible, i so confidently think i am. i'm not your little child you'd unknowingly scold back in the old conservative days. i have my own mind, i can think. i have my own heart, i feel hurt as much as i feel love.

wow! it's just overwhelming. all this time i thought i was making you and everyone proud. when you were thinking the opposite. oh how i defended your person to the face of your real daughter who so grudgingly threw allegations at you. i who begged them to understand how a mother's mind works. and you tell me to get my act together and stop being such a whore????

jesusfuckingchrist.

*breathe in, breathe out*

i blame catholism and the bullshit it brings. it has led mom in a womb of conservatism and impregnated her with paranoia galore.

*more rants here but i'm not whorish enough to post them*


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i feel dizzy. like i've not slept in days when i had more than average sleep last night. i'm just sick like that. nah i'm a whore as the old woman puts it.

oh fuck that, i might as well whore around.

p.s. i'm sorry i had to post this. i'm just so hurt. i still try to think im the kindest, most understanding daughter in the world.

epilogue:

...and so i go back to my sanctuary that is my room. i see the welcoming clutter; i smell the youthful stink. i feel home.