Home

It feels nice to go home once in a while where I feel the safest and most comfortable around my own area but at the same time,there's this continuous buzzing noise in my head making everything seems complicated and messy than it really is.
Ever since the little shithead came home bringing trails of smelly troubles behind his stupid lopsided ass,home feels equally revolting as it is comforting.It feels tainted by his very own presence.
Even my own room.My very own sanctuary.My very own private space.It feels like I can't breathe,both metaphorically and literally because the smokes are a constant company of the house nowadays.I hate that little bullshit.

He had to crush every little peace I have in my life.I wish Mom had drowned him before he was born.I wish he hadn't BEEN born.
Before,I think that he destroys everything in his path because he can't help it.Because he didn't know.I didn't blame him for all the scars and wounds he caused me and my belongings because I thought that family comes first before anything.Even vengeance and hatred.But this is different.
He took away my comfort.My peace.My tranquility.
I hate to go home where he stays for the moment.The house is my responsibility,Mom and Dad entrusted it to me,because they thought that I would stay home until their return.And I would've,if he hadn't came home.

He chose to walk his way and I have no problem with it even if the path clearly spelled DOOM in front of it.I don't care if he wants to die on his own accord but at the very least he can do is spare me.You wanna die bitch die on your own don't drag me down with you.I hate smokes.And I hate cigarettes.
I hate the way they smelled like rotten tobaccos as if the smoke itself burns and rots everything in their path.Just like him.
And I hate that the whole house now smelled like it because of that fucking bitch.
My home.Our home.
If someday my husband turns out to be a smoker,there's a slim chance he's staying as my husband.That's the first thing any of my boyfriends need to know.Ooookay,not related issue there. (-_____-")

It feels weird to not go home after school as usual for the past few days.I'm worried about the cats tho I just feed them yesterday.They need to eat EVERY day,like normal human does.I don't know about the fishes..
It's just that,home has become so...what's the word...umm,messy,both in the real and figurative sense.For God's sake he's so stupid he doesn't even know how to use the dustbin! What the fuck is wrong with him???!!! The dustbin has done nothing wrong! Why does all his trash had to go to the sink?! It will get fucking clogged!!
It's always the kitchen I have to clean whenever I visit.And just like I said before,NO STAINING MY FUCKING KITCHEN.

True enough.
It bothers me a fucking lot.
I'm a simple person.Which means that simple things can make me happy,and simple problems can bother me a lot.

Whenever I go home,it feels like I'm both calm and bothered.I can't stay put and had to walk all over the house to find something to do.
All those noises over the problems he caused before nagging at my head,popping scary questions and 'if's.
I study fairly well,here,at Gran's house,eventhough it gets too dark for me to see my work.Granny is sick and uncles and aunties come over to take care of her.In addition,I moved upstairs where the light isn't so bright when I stay up to study.
I use the laptop's light to see more clearly.

Two days before SPM.

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