into combat zone

i'm always envious when i look around and my good friends have such beautiful relationships with their parents (never mind their siblings. seriously, siblings have an unexplainable love-hate relationship.)

unfortunately for me, i think my relationship with my parents haven't improved since i was 13. i feel as tho i'm in the army every now and then cos of the constant battle zone that occurs in open expanse of my living room. my bed, the trench, is perhaps the only safe zone where the comfort of the pillows steal away every last tear and unhappiness, the place where i say a silent prayer and know that the only one who understands is God. sometimes war neurosis sets in, and i sink into the eternal turmoil of depression that after 20 years i'm still stuck in this relentless battle.

like a battered veteran, i march on. i'll fight till my last breath cos i won't allow myself to be a starved P.O.W.