A Dream Within A Dream
2001-08-08 07:21:03 (UTC)

Love. .

Love is a four lettered word that can mean the difference to
some as life and death.

I guess since this is my first entry, I'll put a little bit
of truth. . .

I guess u can say, I lost my childhood early on. . . but. .
. I'll lay bare the facts

Ever since I was little, a toddler. . . love was all I
needed. Two sisters came into my life. . .and I soon
learned the lesson that sisters come first. I tried never
to bicker with them and gave them all I could give. I
wasn't an angel or anythign. . . I still felt envious and
mad about the things i had to give up. well, to put a long
tale short. . .they became more domineering than I am.
That's the story of my sisters. I love them more than life
itself, even though I know that they use me when they feel
like it. To me though, it doesn't matter anymore, because
they're my sisters, and I love them. That must sound really
sappy. . . but it's true. One day, my parents will pass on,
and I'll have to be the one in charge. So until then, I'll
give them what little joy they can get out of me.

My parents, bless their hearts, have been nothing but good
to me. If a little demanding, but all parents are like that
right?? I guess. . .but I've always felt that they've been
pushing me too hard. When everyone else was playing. . .
I'd be home studying. I have no regrets I guess. . . since
I'm now going into medicine in the school of my choice. . .a
Dream Come True. But I wish I could've had a little more
fun. Elementary school was carried through with a degree of
seriousness just like high school. NO television on
weekdays, and maybe not even on weekends. You may think,
how did I get through with it. . . but it has always been
this way. "Work before play. ." Always striving to do my
best for my dad. . .I used to cry myself to sleep because
I'd come home with an A on some test, but it wasn't enough
to please my father because it wasn't an "A ". He'd ask,
where did u mess up? Why didn't u get a 100%? I spent the
rest of my life trying to live up to his expectations. . .

I guess the thing about myself that I need to understand is
that after all these years, I have a horrible image of
myself. I'm never good enough. . . never good neough for
neone else, and certainly not good enough to please me. I'm
hideous, a creature trapped in my room, literally, with
metal bars, a bookworm, a stupid moron who thinks that
she'll be able to do something in life, when all she ever
really has done is nothing.

My past hasn't always been academics. . . I grew up with
parents who fought viciously. . . a broken mirror comes to
mind. 7 yrs bad luck right? yeah. . .with two younger
sisters, I couldn't afford to lose tears. . . I guess u can
say their first fight was when I grew up.

So I tried to be of use to my parents, but even in that, I
failed. On several accounts, I almost wanted to pass on to
the next life. . . erase the presence here. . . cuz I
thought that it would make my parents' life easier. My
sisters wouldn't miss me. . . and my parents wouldn't miss
the trouble I've caused. I guess u could say I've just been
one big trouble after another.

I guess after all this is laid in words, someone else can
realize why the image I show to others is a happy person. I
don't really want any of my friends to know about my past. .
. I don't want pity. I'm not worth their tears or their
effort. I guess that's enough for a day's entry. . .

the ever cheerful. . .