daddy dearest ...NEVER
Tuesday, Aug. 05, 2003

I didn�t have a father when I was 10 and needed one desperately.
Now I�m 20 and he only just remembers he should control my life.

I am not my sister.
I do things the way I want to do them, when I want to, how I want to. No one listens to me, so I listen to no one.


The clearest memory I have of my father is of me hating him so much I was willing to go out, take the cangkul and chop off his head. This was at the age of six, after I was whipped with a rotan. I didn�t do it because I was afraid of the hantu-s that might be hanging out there in the dark.

I feel the same way now, only much, much stronger, and I know there are no hantu-s that would stop me from committing patricide. The only thing standing in my way is common sense. Not love or daughterly responsibility or any of that bullshit that keeps a girl a doormat in the kitchen.

I come home at 3, which is two hours earlier than I usually do when I go out and he has the nerve to tell me I�m irresponsible, to embarrass my friend, to shout at me that he won�t let me go out of the house anymore.

He thinks I�m 10. He thinks I�m fucking TEN.

And NOW he�s worried about what I do with guys, when two years ago he couldn�t give a rat�s ass what I was doing, how I was doing in school, what I was eating.
Now he cares about my fucking VAGINA.

Too much, too late.

I am so angry I will pick a fight with him and just let it all out and go away and never come home again.
Never never never.

Too bad, dad. I don�t love you anymore.