home...

as I grew older, I hate to go home

I don't hate because I'm not born in a rich family

not because they can't afford to buy me an iPhone or iPad or whatever "i' it is

I hate because it was once a warm family

or it pretends to be when I was small

I once had a great time with my parents and brother

we always go for vacation whenever there is a holiday

even though it is not overseas, I'm still happy

he works, very hard, in my memory

yes he did, he was, yea, the word "was"

that time I was 13, I don't know why he stopped working

when I was 17, I know why

you always think that you are well-experienced, highly capable

you always think that you are always-right-person, the others are shit

even now, I'm 20, you're still the same

you think you're the best, we're always wrong

you never get along with people, always argue with others

wanting to be dominant

yes, I admit that you are experienced, you do have the knowledge at work

but have you ever think that this is 21st century now? there is something called Internet...

the new generation can easily replace you? you are already 60...

and people have rights and wrongs... why can't you just forgive others for doing wrong sometimes?

and why can't you just admit it when you're wrong sometimes?

why do you have to treat your child like your workers? giving orders to 'em?

why do you need your child to be genius? 

thinking they can do everything thus ask them to solve everything by themselves?

questioning them why they can't get the first place at school?

I remember very well, you always used to say "one wrong, both punish"

me and my brother

you claimed it as a fairness, we see it as unfairness

why do I have to be cane when brother is wrong?

or why my bro have to be cane when I was wrong?

this is not fair at all

I used to think that you're a good father

but I hate it when I see you drunk

you scold us without reasons every time you're drunk and came home

and there was once I saw you came home and fell on the corridor of living room

my mom have to drag you all the way back room

you're 6 feet tall, my mom is just 5 feet ... and you're not skinny nor slim...

I was primary school and this scene had been carve into my memory deeply

I saw my mom crying in the middle of the night, many times

I saw her diary, I knew you have affair out there

but she did not leave you and this home

that was 10 years back

10 years later, now

I know you have affair out there, again

my mom never cries anymore

but I know her heart hurts

plus, we all know, you  have not been giving her expenses for many years

you always act as if it is non of your business

water leaking from ceiling, termites, sand leaking from don't-know-where

toilet flush problem

you never attend to these problems

as if this is not your house, as if you don't know what's going on

you never cares

all these... it makes me hate...

you make me hate, I mean, us

me, my brother, and my mom...

this is no longer the warm family I thought when I was in nursery...

I'm now staying at hostel... I feel not to go home...

I don't want to see or talk to you...