Be warned, this is something unlike any you have ever seen before.

Well, I suppose you all know about that story likening teenagers to a bar of soap.

Grip it too tight, it slips away with force. Grip it just nice, it stays in your hands. Grip it too loose, it slowly falls away.

Well, if I were a bar of soap yesterday, I probably broke into a billion pieces.

And as I have feared, my parents have no intention of returning me my freedom. In fact, during a heated conversation yesterday night, when I was severely reprimanded for using my laptop to go online at 12 midnight in my bedroom, this happened:

They asked me to never use my laptop in my bedroom since now my house is WIFI-ified (what the...?? makes no sense at all). They mentioned that the Turkeysis is having a major exam soon and doesn't want me using the computer in the same place where she has to study, and suggested that I bring my laptop downstairs to the dining room to go online.

So I questioned, in the most calm manner I could manage at that time, I could do so in my room, away from my sister's eyes in the study area upstairs. Why not let me do so in my room?

And there came the reply:

"So that, we can...control what you're doing."

Well, If I had blogged about this incident right after it last night (which I couldn't due to the stupid "no-com-in-room" ban), you would probably see a post laced with profanity.

My parents don't trust me. I don't trust them, either. And I only give my best to those whom I trust.

My world has turned dark, ever since...

What that once filled my world - song, music, expressions of creativity - was no longer, ever since I returned to the "protection" of my "dear" parents. My voice, once audible on the many stages and public places I have dwelled in, or visited, could never be heard once more in this place I should be calling "home". I still listen to pop songs and music that I like, but gone are the days when I sang to myself, or shared whatever I was listening: I preferred to keep music unpolluted and sacred, not associated with whatever that was happening around me: for me I could sense none but a little light of hope from somewhere far away from where I was. And that light is dimming...

The house is quiet. For fear of unleashing their wrath by saying something wrong, that triggers the monster within them. After seeing M's rather innocent intention of correcting P's pronunciation of a certain famous company turn into an anger-filled quarrel several days ago in the car, it has only become more certain. And perhaps, conditioning has already took its place: those who speak against will be punished dearly. Reward and punishment; that's how things go.

There's a Chinese saying that goes: Ugly things in the household shall be kept within the four walls of the house, never to be spread. I have tried to keep to this; but now the pain in my heart is so strong, after the incident last night that let my thoughts race about once more. I have missed many chances to express myself; however, memory decays as time goes by, and I did not manage to do so in time.

And so concludes this really long post of the Fishball Hermit, who yearns for freedom and acceptance, and most of all - respect. And she hopes to find a real somewhere, to hide...