My Brother, Darth Vader

I just got into another fight with my brother. He threw my plastic waste basket at my head, said "fuck you" all while he was in my room, using my computer. Of course, I threw him out. You don't blatantly rob a store and then come back to shop there. I think the the minor blow to the head made me realize something. I'm being his sister the wrong way. Heck, if I had a sister like me, I would hate me too. All I do is criticize him, point out everything bad he does, and offer no support. Of course, it's kind of hard not to do that. Everything he does is bad, worth criticizing and offering no support. Or maybe it's just me. I just don't know how to see good in him anymore. He's like Darth Vader, but I'm not Luke Skywalker. I'm only some random rebel merely harassing Vader.

I should be more supportive of him. It's hard. But I guess I should try. Maybe that's the way.

Laughing

When I met Xab, I took him somewhere, to become discontent. We laughed at what was wrong with the world. Just laughed and mocked it. I left him there in that part of Discontent and moved on, without realizing I was moving. I don't want to just laugh at what's stupid, I want to care about things that mean something in the world. Even if it's a little thing that can be laughed at. Sometimes, it's really just the little things that count. I'm tired of laughing now, and ashamed to watch him laughing, seeing where I have been. I want to care. I want him to care.

Stranger

So anyway, my mom said that "You're just a stranger now, you don't have a right to decide anything anymore." It really hurt me, so I just hung up on her without another word. I just felt like I didn't have an anchor anymore. I thought I really had a long tether, tied down to my home but I guess it's cut now. I was actually thinking about where I was going to float off to and land. Of course it's going to be in my apartment but that's a month away. I don't know how to be anchorless for a month. I don't even feel like dropping anchor there. And I don't even like where I am at right now. And it hurt me because I do more shit around this house than my dad ever does. Sure he pays the mortgage but he just bitches and complains about everything without doing anything to help out around the house or with my brother.

I know my family isn't a democracy. I don't make any money to uphold the household. I thought I was now an adult in the family. What I said had merit and value. They always took my suggestions into consideration before. I always thought that I was the fighter of the family. The one trying to keep everything together when no one bother when everything is falling apart. I try to make the peace. I try to lead my brother into a better lifestyle. That doesn't mean shit to them. Whatever I do means nothing.

And maybe I feel jealous because they think about these "guests" that never come over than me. Fuck. It almost makes me wish that I'm settled with a degree and a career so that I can make my own decisions about what kind of bed to but.

8/27/2002 03:03:12 PM

Power Struggle

My family can bicker about the smallest things but behind it all is a hidden power struggle. That's what it all is. That's why my brother refusing to swallow his pride, why my parents disagree about the doorlocks why I'm constantly swallowing my pride and giving in because no one else will.

This time they're having their battlefield on my territory. My bedroom. Sure, they pay the mortgage but this is my room. First they take my bed away and haul it my apartment even though I had other plans in mind, plans that made sense and plans of course they had to disagree with. I've been sleeping on the floor for about three weeks now.

Yesterday, they decided to buy a full size bed (a bed that would take up half the space of this room) for five guests that will come over for two days on the weekend. As I said before, we have two other untouched, unused rooms with big beds. Two per room, that makes for. An airmattress (which we have but they refuse to find for me) makes five. No need to buy a bed or even a full size bed for a two day stay.

I asked my mom not to buy a new bed because it just takes up a lot of room. The bed wouldn't be used anyway. Once the guests leave and I leave, the bed will be totally useless. The space could be used for something more important. My mom said that my dad already decided and that he said "it's not for her to decide."

"Why does he get to decide?" I ask, challenging parental authority. "He's gone more often than I am and you didn't agree with him about the door knobs."

"Well, he's the man of the house."

"He's never here."

Darn, I'll continue this later. something came up.

Caught in the Middle

When everyone asks where my dad is and we respond that he's overseas, people look at us with sympathy. They think it's hard with my dad not around and that we miss him terribly. The truth is that we get along better when my dad is not around. I think our household has evolved to suit three people instead of four.

Why?

It's just hard having two parents around. I think both my mom and my dad are just not used to being around each other. What happened now? My dad wanted me to install door locks to two of the rooms in the house even though no one really lives in those rooms. One is my 'brother's' but he only goes in there to get his clothes. The other is the guest room. There really is no reason to put lock on those doors.

"For privacy," my dad says.

"No one lives in those rooms," I say.

"We have guests all the time."

"Once every two years and I think they can get along without the locks." Actually I even think that the guests wouldn't like the locks. They would leave their door unlocked anyway.

"No, they need privacy."

"We're Filipino. There's no such thing as privacy."

I buy the locks and tell my mom. She gets mad and tells me to return the locks. Before I do, I tell my dad the next day and he gets mad and tells me to install the locks. I then tell my mom the next day and she says to tell him to install it themselves.

"Mom, can you just tell him and argue with him?" I say. I really don't care what happens to the doors at this point. I'm just sick of being in the middle. "You guys are just... yelling at me."

This morning I woke up at the early hour of nine to the sound of bickering and arguing since they happened to be at home and awake at the same time. I stay in my room even though I'm awake just to avoid the arguing. When I leave my room, my mom sees me and remembers something. The locks. Jeez, they didn't even touch upon the locks during their bickering.

My dad tells me to install the locks right away but my mom lies and says that she already returned the locks, even though they're really in my room. With all that done and gone, you think everything would be over with but of course they found something new to argue about.