Sunday, March 10, 2013 @ 11:00 PM
And I'm actually struggling a lot because of barriers of communication. It's not that I can't speak good English or the ang mohs here can't understand me but I can't speak good MANDARIN and most of the people here are from CHINA so they can't understand the crap I'm talking about. I realised many of them would just nod when I say something (even asking a question, WTH) although they don't get me. Jil Ee was the one who normally translated my gibberish crap for their understanding because she always switches her accent to the ching chong one. I guess I could as well but I just don't want to. I've never liked the ching chong accent. Too... Ugh. Yep, that's it. UGHHH. And I'm really annoyed by the fact that they mocked the way I speak Mandarin and kept asking me to improve my Mandarin. Like hello? You guys should improve your English instead. After all, English IS the international language, WTH. We're not in China, for heaven's sake. People speak English in Australia for a reason. That's why sometimes I'm just so sick of talking to the people here or even just mingling around with people. I seek asylum in the little room of mine, snuggling under my thick sheets and scrolling through mah homies' Tumblrs, not giving a flip about speaking perfect Mandarin in an English-speaking country, dammit.
After a while, I got used to these broken people floating around me and let's be honest, I'm one of the broken people or else why would I end up in this rehabilitation centre in the first place? This morning, I woke up with a prayer in my head. I mean, like, the minute I was awake, my brain formed a prayer and I was praying silently in my head. I admit that I don't normally pray in the morning but this morning, I thanked God for everything that's happened to me. He has been so good to me despite the challenges I'd faced and the stuck-up people I had to deal with everyday. He has placed me in this remote town for a reason and I have to find out what that reason is. I'm really grateful that I'd found a church to go to now, a church similar to FuXion. The people there were really friendly to me and I felt so at home. Nevertheless, nothing beats FuXion services back in Malaysia and mah homies who're nicely mean to me. Does that even make sense? LOL.
Lastly, no matter how much I wanna deny it, I still miss my parents. We FaceTimed that day and they started their usual bickering (although Dad always said, "Let's not argue in front of the children lah!") on the other side of the screen and here I was, staring at both of them while a million things zoomed through my mind and just then, everything went blank. All I did was stared at those two old kids arguing with each other out of habit, wanting to prove themselves right as always due to the high ego they both possess, with my mind completely empty. Blank. Null.
I realised how much I love them. I actually LOVE them. Oh, my God. I must be insane. How can this be? Am I even making sense? Do I really love my parents? Am I freaking kidding myself? Walao. But to think how much they've put in for me, put out for me, put aside for me, put UP with me. Shit. I must be insane to NOT be in love with them both. I'm constantly pushing them away, ignoring their texts, avoiding their phone calls, being rude to them when I finally answered the call, etc. But they've never been sick of my bloody attitude, always offering themselves to me, lending me their eager ears and being there for me 24/7.
And suddenly, it's all crystal clear. I finally know why I'm here, here in this rehabilitation centre.
Because you, Ru Min, are so terribly messed up. You're so broken, worse than broken - shattered, that even fixing might not help.
What have you done to yourself?
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Whisk me away