sometimes i dont know whether to laugh or to cry.

it is with an assuming coldness, unaffectedness, that i view the scene, as if an outsider
it is a scene out of a sad movie, with a storyline, i have gone through a thousand times,
and the script; i know it line by line, as if a mantra, i chant these lines



it's irks me, how she crumbles under pressure, how she whines and tried to evade the question, how she pressures us and depends on us to be always there with her, how she says that, in her heart, her mindset is that of a primary school student.

how she clings on to us, to them, as zaps the life out of all of us, as if a parasite, feeding off it's host, relentlessly, stubbornly, like a baby attracted to its mother's breast.

only,
its not right.

because we all grow up. but she hasnt.

it disgusts me.
and even more so,

when i realise,
how hard, how cold, how tired, how burdened, how pressurized, i have become
to be stronger, faster, more independent,
to escape being a fragment of her shadow, to not repeat her careless mistakes and folly
and how i have to grow up, so quickly,

because she refuses to.



it makes me sad,
to see my folks cry, to see the age in their eyes, their greying hair,
and their coarse, wrinkled hands,
and the temporary relief when i return to share their burden.




when will all this end?

sometimes i wonder, if one day, this will all end, and we will be freed of our burdens, both ours and hers, and things will go back to the way they were, once again.

when the sky is a contagious bright blue, and the clouds are a pure innocent white, casting a pretty picture in the back of my eye,
and people walk around me, chattering, buzzing happily like bees,

i look down at my feet,
and then i tell myself,

things will be alright.
of course; things will be alright.