foul

frankly, i hate the first day of chinese new year.
the day is synonymous with our family's yearly mecca to johor bahru.

the entire duration, starting from the drive there and back, is mind-numbingly boring.
i virtually stare at the tv, mutter the occasional "happy new year" with a limpid smile, reach out with my grubby hands for the angbao that follows and wait for time to pass.

i don't understand
why must we dress nicely, subject ourselves to strangers' scrutiny, their expectations and account for the past year's happenings to them?
as if they give a shit if you're jobless, heartbroken or planning to scale the himalayas.
i mean, who really gives a fuck?

would so much rather visit my close friends' families
the day would pass much faster and yes, at least the angbao would be in sgd.

i feel like i don't fit in well in both worlds
so why bother with the lip service?
i hope i will not ever subject my kids to such torture ever

it's so pointless, really.
and now, i'm tired and in a really crass mood.

perhaps i really shouldn't have, but i told mum i don't wanna go back anymore.