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Atikah Batrisyia Batrisyia Dyra Ezabel Faiziyyah Fana HuiYun Irfaniah IzyanSyahida Maggie Mardiah Nadira NaurahIzyan Saiful Suchi Syuhadah

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Layout & Coding (c) Milla
Content (c) Syafiqah9622
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Saturday, January 30, 2010


I don't feel like a daughter.
I feel like a trophy.

A trophy.
A child whom the parents keep, just to show off to people.
A daughter, just to bring honor to the family's name.

I don't feel loved.
I don't.

Most would say when your parents scold you, it is because they love you.
I don't feel like they love me.
I feel that they're just tearing my already torn self apart.

They don't appreciate whatever I had done.
Be it my PSLE grade, my O levels grade or the fact that I'm trying my best to lighten up their burden.

Ever since I started working, besides the usual food I eat at home, I had never asked them for a single cent.
I offered to pay my own bills, thus, lightening their burden by a hundred bucks.
I pay for my own food when we go out together,as a family.

I'm tired of asking them to pay because you want to know why?
They'll just give a face, as if I asked them to buy me a ten dollar meal.

I've never disobeyed them.
I came back home at ten.
I don't smoke.
If I'm not allowed to go out, I won't.
I don't fuck guys.

And all I asked for was to accompany Irfaniah at her house and a wave of tsunami was hurled on my back, as if I went to her house to play with some guy.

Yeah.

I'm just a piece of trophy they want to keep because I'm the only idiot who can actually cover up for my stupid brothers.

Don't get me wrong.
I love my parents but I wonder...

Do they even love me at all?

I'm going to listen to Higinia...
I hope it helps me to calm down.

Es wird gesagt und getan
5:25 PM