Old Resentments Flammable As Resin

April 12, 2008
Mood: A cocktail of anger, resentment and issues

I just finished doing my laundry, when suddenly long-buried memories attacked me. A normal occurrence, I assure you. But this time instead of cowering in my imaginary corner, I've decided to actually do something about it. I'm going to clear my system.

"...he was finding in Clarice Starling's personality hard and stubborn nodes, like knots in wood, and old resentments still flammable as resin."

You want resentments flammable as resin, Thomas Harris? Well I'll give you old resentments still flammable as resin.

This is for my PE teacher in 2nd grade who told me in front of the class that I failed. What did I do? I couldn't walk like a model in a catwalk.

This is for my first love who repeatedly told me I was ugly.

This is for that girl in my class last year who told me I was childish and immature because I liked Anime.

In fact, this is for ALL the people in my class last year. Who made me feel like an outsider, and who now wonder why I won't talk to them. Well DUHHHHHHH...

This is for my cousin who just looked away smugly while I was literally drowning in front of him. Thank you dear cousin. If it weren't for the leeches at the bottom of the pool I would be dead by now.

This is for my aunt who, after I happily reported that I had gotten in to the school honor list, shot me down and told me that she was "not satisfied". Because I only got the 6th place. Because she got higher grades when she was in High School. Well here's to you, dear aunt. Have you ever tried doing my math homework at least once? Ever tried reading my biology textbook? You can't even handle a computer because YOU DIDN'T HAVE FECKING COMPUTERS IN YOUR TIME!

In fact, this here is for my aunt. Period.

And this is for my grandparents who said the same thing. "Oh. Only 6th place? Who got the first?"

This is for everytime my grandma told me to be like the girl next door who did all the household chores. Apparently getting straight A's in every subject wasn't enough.

In fact, this is for every time my grandparents weren't satisfied with my straight A's and all the medals and trophies I brought home. This is for every time I won a competition and then they told me my hair looked like a bird's nest.

This is for grandpa, who told me every time he walked in on me watching Anime (my only source of happiness then) that I should turn off the TV and read. I already have A's grandpa. What do you want?

This is again for my grandpa, who told me I should break up with my then boyfriend because a) he looked like a stick and b) I was still ugly and would only be pretty on my 18th birthday.

This is again for grandma. After I got into that accident, I went to my friend's house because it was near the site. Said friend gave me ice for my head to ease the swelling. Grandma's first words to me were "Why are you here?!" in a tone that made me feel like going back in time to actually die in that accident.

This is for the guy who sat next to me in kindergarten, who told the principal the drumming on the tables was my idea, even though a) I didn't start it, and b) he did it too. (Yes, by hell I still remember that)

This is for the guy who was in my language class when I first got here in Norway. May our paths cross again so I can properly kick you in the nuts.

This is for my math/science teacher last year, who told me to keep my ideas to myself when I wanted to share something that would make the subject easier for the class. Thank you, dear teacher. That still burns.

So my system is clear for now. There's still a lot of these hidden in the cracks and crevasses of my mind. I hope that one beautiful day, they'll go away. These are the tiny, pathetic memories that by themselves should not really hurt. But they group together, gang up on me and deprive me of peace.

So remember dear reader, to always put yourself in the other person's shoes. You never know when a tiny, insignificant little comment might actually hurt and turn into that other person's personal hell.