تزک جلالی

The Runaway ... Part 3

I talked to a few of my friends from college. I asked them all if they think that I am a horrible, rude and mean person. They said no. I asked them if I was like that at all. They said no. Well I wasnt a horrible person. But now I am. My sisters say that I am a horrible person. I went to hostels. They say that people become strange after going to hostels like me. They all think that I was always this horrible as I am being to them. I am not like that. This is only because of my relation with my mom. I do not want my sisters to grow up in such an atmosphere of tension. I dont want them to have a completely horrible childhood because I was an asshole. I dont want to fuck up my sisters life as mine already is. I hate this.

I would curse the day I was born. I would curse the fact that I am such a complete failure and a disappointment. I would curse that fact that I was engineered by God to hurt others a task that I seem to perform so well. I would curse being gay. Yes I would curse being gay because it has given me so much hurt. So fuckign much hurt. Life is not worth this. I would choose death over life if only there werent all these other lives linked to mine. I curse the fact that once we are born we cannot leave without hurting so many other. I curse the fact that I am a curse on my family.

I hate this. Here I am sitting in a cyber cafe. My family probably worried about me. That I left in a fight. And I am here. My one action has made me a complete failure and a complete loser in one moment. All in my life that was worth anythign was lost the moment I walked out of the door. I left it all. I left my house and I lost it all. Now I can neve sleep without remorse. But at that moment I was so angry. Her being the same person that she was. That irritaing tone that angry voice that she talks to me always with and never with motherly love. Always angry at me.

Well if you are always angry at someone. For even as long as two weeks it meand only one thing. You hate them. Yes my mother hates me. Not because of her. Because of me. I am worthy of her hatred. No mother would hate her child. I must have pushed her to this state.

posted by Jalal @ 01:30