a touch of emo

Such foolish, amateurish belief like karma does not pertain to me because I will eternally be damned with no such hope of redemption. And this perpetual cycle of failure won't stray from my wary sides. At the midpoint, this week has already proven itself to be possibly the biggest tumor my ego, already in shards, of course, has ever encountered.

The tale begins with my mother's epic rage one Tuesday night as I was working on the Barrons SAT writing book. Apparently (though I still have no idea what happened) I fell asleep and committed this infallible taboo in the Cho household. I'm used to the lectures I get when I wake up groggily from naps and such. But perhaps I had unknowingly bent, poked, and pulled the final straw of my mother's patience. I have never heard a voice so deafening from a five foot tall Asian woman, and never have I witnessed such small hands banging at the door with such a force that I could almost hear the door breaking. But oh, the content of her rampant fit might just be the best part. It will forever fascinate me how a simple lecture on taking too many naps strays into a tirade of what a failure I am. Really! That woman's ability to talk is, I have to admit, madly impressive.

My day continued. I wake up to my head being repeated bashed by my beloved Taka and hysterical cries of how I will never learn (learn what, I will never know.) And as all conflicts in this house, my mother comes home with some honey rice cakes and shares her infinite wisdom. And this time, it is sorrowful. "The world is fair. You will get what you put in and lose what you don't deserve."

So now, in all my naked despair, I glorify the emblem of bitter mortification, a simple 2 page essay. It was not just an English assignment. It was sanguine and ingenuous until it met Satan. And then it was too late and it fell feebly into a pile of nothingness, never to be seen, never to be admired, never to make its mark and prove that it ever existed. It is lost. So woe my antics. My foolishness, my thoughtlessness, my immense stroke of bad luck.

...


And on a side note, I'd like to share some of my ingenious riddles:

I, the sapling, shall forever lie with the carnivores of spring.
The branches of the father tree bend slyly where their dwelling be.

I dare you to try figuring them out. I hope that is a provocation enough.

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And I hereby forever rest my crown on blockles.