First off, I think I know what you're talking about, Chels, but didn't you see enough idiot guys in high school? Come on, they were friggin' everywhere! Will Evans, Will Kinash, Parveen, KEVIN LAU!!!!! Compare Dan to Kevin Lau. Are you satisfied? Oh, and also in movies too (ie. American Pie, all that National Lampoon crap)
Chem is also my arch nemesis but we parted ways back in high school, so I win.
I got lectured by my mom about how I shouldn't swear. It was just absurd. This was in reference to the angry e-mail I had sent to my dad in response to his comments about how if I focused my time on other things, I wouldn't have to think about sex, which doesn't make sense at all, really. And I only swore a total of 3 times, and it wasn't like "F- you" or anything like that. I was using it as an adjective, like "f-ing stupid", and not describing my dad or anything at all. In short, I did not swear at my dad, I just swore because I was extremely angry and I swear very seldom. Lily swears more than me! So, my mom lectured me about that for a bit, and then we talked about the e-mail I sent to my dad, how she thought it wasn't "appropriate" because I shouldn't never, under any circumstances, be angry or yell at my parents. And get this; my mom tells me that I shouldn't even yell at a random stranger, even if he/she is pissing me off. The only people I can mouth off to are... your own kids! Which makes perfect sense, considering how my mom used to yell at us really loudly and angrily when I was younger about little issues. I just could not believe her when she said that. It was just... surreal. I don't understand why anyone would want to raise their kids like that. It's just wrong.
Then, my mom told me that my dad's sick, which I already knew, and also that he's getting sicker because of me. Yeah, because of my words, my dad is now physically getting sick, according to my mom. She told me that I should apologize to him, to tell him that I didn't mean what I said and that I was just in a bad mood or whatever, but I was honestly not feeling a whole lot of sympathy towards him. I don't remember much from my childhood, even way less with him in it. I've never yelled at my dad before, never, and the one time that I finally get to express my feelings, I have to be sorry about it. Again, it just didn't seem right.
I have random memories that I keep, and a lot of them are very vivid. I can remember the time of day, the exact place I was, the little details. In this one memory of my dad, I had this stuffed reindeer I really really loved. One day, I couldn't find it, and I think i asked my dad if he knew where it was. He told me he took it from me, and that I wasn't going to get it back. I was so, so upset, that I offered him $10 for it, and he agreed, and I got it back. Is that screwed up? Looking back, I think wow.... wow. I must've been... 8? I don't remember my age. I think my dad took it away because he wanted me to grow up.
My dad is upset that I'm his only son. My mom further elaborated for me on this: my grandma (on my dad's side) had... 4 sons, I think. My dad had me. One of my uncles has 2 daughters, and my other two don't have any right now. So I'm actually the only son in the family. And I told my dad that because he believes being gay doesn't run in the family and won't even try to look at me the way I want to been seen, then maybe it's good I don't carry on such an bigoted, intolerant name. That was a really harsh thing to say, I know, but it's true.
My dad won't even try to change his beliefs. And he told me that too.
Anyway, enough about him. Here's a poem I wrote for one of my classes, Style, which is like English class all over again. My favourite class, yay!!!! It's based on my dad, if you haven't guessed.
You will never know these words
By: Aaron Chan
You will never know these words.
I know you by an empty seat.
I seem to have misplaced any memory of us,
Or perhaps they were carelessly bleached out.
When your shadow creeps over me,
I feel a familiar fear settling in.
I learn not to question because then I doubt,
And people don’t like to be doubted.
If something is not right, there is always room under the ever-growing, black rug.
You’ve always expected the perfect life,
And when that doesn’t come about, you say it goes against tradition,
That people are stamped with “sick”
If they aren’t measured right down to the dot.
You’ve laid out the tracks for me,
Expecting me to chug along without the slightest of a whistle.
I would rather derail and flush into a fury of fire.
I am told that wounds heal,
But these raw scars run deeper than the deepest of trenches.
Your rusted words have come too late
And it only adds a tangled knot to your string.
Your face still sags when you see me walking your way,
And though you try to hide it, your eyes whisper,
“You disappoint me.”
I may share your blood but you still find a way to hate me.
Hypocritical.
Bigoted.
Ignorant.
Apathetic.
Oppressive.
You will never know these words.
This is the... third draft of this poem. We worked on it in class, which was really fun. I hope it's alright. Feedback is always welcome.
I started writing a song about my dad today. it's based on that story about the stuffed animal thing.
Joanne: Still in love with "It's Britney bitch"?
Ann: You still haven't answered my question... have you received any more advances from your Pizza Hut co-workers?
Lily: Oh Lily... go do some volunteering and you won't have to think about sex.
Chels: Next weekend is alright, as far as things go, but things are already so crazy, and it might change, but I have next weekend down for you guys.
I have a crush on this guy at school. He's from Surrey, which is really cool because everyone else (yes, EVERYONE... except for one other guy) is from elsewhere, which I've previously mentioned. But he's really, really... cute, haha. And I'm pretty sure most people know I'm gay, or at least half the class does. It's really cool because I'm so used to be scared and censoring my thoughts on certain things, but I feel somewhat comfortable with saying things at school.
Congratulations to those who have read up to here. You are Team #1.
~~Aaron
PS. Magic hat!
PPS. I have no idea what that means. I'm as crazy as Ann.
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