this also includes you, the middle child with too many older siblings who sometimes not giving a fuck whether you're okay or not because they resent you a little bit, and you, the youngest child who's now trying to navigate your feelings to make your parents believe you more instead of whatever your older sibling says about you, and for you too, the oldest sibling who wishes to be understood but never ever try to open up to your younger siblings because you think its cool to held onto everything you've had in the past with no intentions to say a thing about it.
no, im not marginalizing nor stereotyping all of you here. i said it based on my experience as someone who is trying to understand everything and anything at all once. i tried to nod and nod and nod as people telling me about their family life and its very interesting. im not bored at all. its fascinating to see how people live their life like that. i respect all of you here and its okay because all of you did your best to survive.
what does it feel to be misunderstood by your younger siblings because you helped them without their verbal consent? does it feel so good when you finally escaped from your oldest and younger sibling by going somewhere without telling anyone and label it as a me-time? and how do you manage to stand up for yourself after weeks of resentment to your older sibling because they've talked so many shit about you to your parents?
its nice, isnt it? to be blamed so hard or to blame too hard. its either you or your sibling who had to take the knife and slice up your throat. sometimes its both of you, sometimes its not. maybe on a strange occurrence, its neither of you both. i will take all of the standing applause and the piercing screams if i successfully gather all of your attention here. if not, please hold onto your grudge like usual to see the aftermath of me talking shit about people with siblings.
what kind of credentials do i have in order to be able to speak like this? i think none. its not that i have never experience it, not al all, but the fact that i cannot. if only i could blame every side of the wall inside my room that have been influencing me to do shit like this, i would be ten times more richer than i am now. well, maybe more further in life. i think i would be someone who's able to do multiple tasks in a day without having to think about the bad consequences that wouldnt happen to me.
overly over thinking.
this strange yet nostalgic topic appears inside my bonk head after living like a hermit for two days inside my room. i talked to my best friend (who is also an only child ever since she was born) about this thing that has been annoying me but also keeping me grounded at the same time. the funny thing is, i dont think its keeping me alive. i feel like a zombie clacking their jaw whenever they tried to speak.
i feel like that one scientific famous feline. it made people guessing for years whether its alive or not, but they're unable to prove it unless they got the strength to collect whatever it needs to conduct the experiment. if only the thought of talking to an only child appears on their mind, i think it would make them less curious.
it doesnt kill me (yet), and it doesnt give me the strength to stay alive either. its always pushing me to go back to sleep for hours, then going out from my room as a public appearance to show people that im still a gross bitch, then go back to sleep. repetitive cycle that burns into my sluggish brain. it hurts, sometimes, but only at some time when my head is too empty.
well. its so funny to talk about my experience as an only child. sometimes the urge to killing myself got washed away by waves and waves of people with siblings that invalidates my lonely life. it happens more than five times a month, so it doesnt bother me to speak up about my life to them. at least i do tell them about it even though it left their mind as soon as their mouth speak those words that i hate so much.
"oh, you're an only child aren't you? it must be so happy to be pampered all the time."
im glad the gun law in here is a bit strict. the urge to pull up neil perry's style execution to myself is getting higher every time they mistook alone time as an event that is so amazing, superb, and rare. i've been saying to several people that being an only child sometimes blur the line between enjoying alone time or slowly smelting to be schizophrenic. the amount of times i have talked to myself, thinking about doing something that has never happened, and those times when you want to talk to someone but didnt want to be seen as a freak is annihilating.
i dont want to be seen yet i want people to understand me when i speak for myself. i dont want to be heard but i want people to know about my favorite color and my favorite band when someone asked them about me. i dont want to speak about anything and yet i want someone to know about me from head to toe whenever they saw something that i love so much.
its maddening to me. i always feel like a toddler waddling to open streets and glare at the nearest truck from my left side, hoping it to stop at the exact time i saw the startled glance from the driver. i love to be an only child but sometimes i hate it when i realized that im completely alone. like a deer staring at the gleaming headlight.
its good enough to be able to talk about this to several only child about the same experience we had. the egregious alone time mistaken as blissful grounding time, those chest-stabbing moments when old people expect us to agree and obeying something they hardly want to explain, and our quiet moments falsely seen as anger.. its nice. its quite nice to see how they nod at me, agreeing at every word i said about it.
maybe i need to compel every single only child in this area to create a stable community in order to make each other feel seen. physical gifts may not help us all, towers of books and favorite things may not guide us all, but a stagnant progress of understanding and helping each other to create a better life could help us into living our best life. alone, but in a really big way of having each other to survive.
a haywire of unique ideas shaped into a big ball of onigiri, glued by a rich flavored mayonnaise, only to be eaten by an only child who has never held someone else's hand when they asked about the future.
eat well, only child.