The Silent Room

One thing I hate the most is when she comes over, starts talking, and ends up crying – without me saying a single word in response. Sure I can say something, but I know better – my tongue has hurt more people than it has ever helped. Of all the people I would never ever want to hurt with my evil tongue would be my beloved mother.

That’s why I seal myself shut from saying anything unnecessary to you.

Sure, I’m not making much preparations for the upcoming term, but really, it’s an art course, and I have no idea what it’ll be like. Oh please, argue with me, why did I not ask my seniors for notes or anything? Perhaps you missed the fact that it’s an art course – everything is subjective, assignments based on some basic principles and mostly creativity.

It’s not like Engineering or IT where you actually spend time reading stuff and doing practice questions. How do you study creativity anyway?

And then came the talks about spirituality. Don’t be influenced by the western materialistic world, she says. Funny she should say that, considering I watch as much western TV as my dad does, and he actually hates television, western or otherwise. On top of the fact I watch more eastern stuff than western shows.

My spirituality is perhaps not like what you’d normally see in a regular pious guy. I am, in no way, a good muslim. Not that I actually make any serious effort to be one, honestly speaking. I’m told way too many times, ask from God, pray to God. For someone who has been ignoring God for a long time, I don’t feel good asking any favors from someone whose service I have neglected for so long.

Sure, you might say, anyone deserves help from God. Unfortunately, whenever I prostrate on that praying mat, I see a worthless, pitiful soul, shamelessly clinging on to the greater being that he casually mocks and ignores on a regular basis.

I have no right to ask any favors from God, whom I have so openly and blatantly insulted, mocked and ignored for so long.

And then I was told that my room is scary because of my posters. What? Let’s list what posters I’ve put up so far.

• Predator – He’s just a game hunter from somewhere far far away. His prey just so happened to be us humans; who probably appeared to be chickens in clothing to him, anyway. He’s not evil – just bad ass.
• The Punisher – He’s good-guy hero dad trotting around with guns and bombs to avenge his family.
• Vegeta – Emo prince of a race people named after vegetables.
• Arthas – Also an emo prince. Now possessed by an angsty warlock.
• Gaara – Another emo kid. Naturally a good boy who loves to play with sand and protect his villagers.
• Saber – Who is more noble than the wielder of Excalibur?
• Kenshin – A highly skilled samurai with a retarded sword. A bit on the emo side, but we all know he’s a good guy.
• Spider-Man – Everyone loves Spider-Man!

There. No black metal posters, emo bands, or any satanic reference at all. I could’ve put up a very cool Diablo poster though, but heheheh…

At present, I’m not exactly living a life hanging by a thread. A lot of things are happening around me, the things that I have set in motion.

Two clubs I’m deeply involved in.
Design jobs from my clients.
Backlogged blog posts.
An incomplete novel.
A short story that I intend to lengthen and turn into a script.
My portable harddisk that I sent for a warranty exchange.

Those are just a few of my current concerns – insignificant though they may seem to those with more serious issues [read: assignments] to deal with. The things I have started, and I am now waiting for the right moment to make the next move[s].

If I’m busy with something, I will be busy, and I will have no time to entertain anyone. Most of those times will be spent in my room, writing and planning and communicating. Otherwise I’d be out of the house, doing the actual work of going here and there, meeting people, buying stuff and getting things done.

I’m busy in places where you don’t see me. I don’t talk about how busy I am just so I show that I’m actually DOING something. You are not in any position to tell me all I have been doing is fooling around unproductively.

I do a lot of things, I don’t tell you about them because the last time I talked to you about my pastimes, you dismissed them, cutting me off halfway, changing the topic to something completely different. You were bad listeners, and I never trusted any of you with my tales. That’s why I appear to be doing nothing.

So you see, these feelings are honest and from the bottom of my heart flowing through my fingers. True, angry and bitter as they are, I can never mouth this to my mother’s face that looked so painful with sorrow and dissapointment.

I know she loves me. She is the one woman I love the most in this world, and I have loved her as early as I could remember. I can’t bear the thought of saying those hurtful things that would break her heart so.

And so I have remained quiet, as to not hurt her. All these years. And now she’s telling me that she hates it when I keep quiet. What choice do I have now? I’m not a timid, humble and filial son like my brothers. I’m not the type to lie about who I am. I don’t fake my personality around anyone [except, maybe, super hot chicks. If you are one, drop me an email :D]. I’m just a spoiled, sarcastic, cynical asshole, only gifted with slightly more common sense than an electric kettle.

I try to be nice from time to time, but if I get pushed into a corner I’m not so nice anymore. The same goes for anyone, right? I broke someone’s nose before and I have regretted it since. I broke someone’s heart before and turns out it hurt me even more.

I don’t like to hurt people like that. That’s why I never said a word.

*deep breath*

Thanks, blog.

note: You and You are different people. Please understand.