Father

I shut my bedroom door hoping it would drain out my father’s voice. That didn’t help much so I took out my iPod and started listening to heavy-metal music. I opened a book and started reading it.

That’s right. I won’t lose my concentration on it after opening a book and start reading it. No matter how loud the background noise is. It just drains away and when i get absorbed to the book. That’s what I do every time my dad starts screaming like hell at me.

My father has been behaving like a berserker with a rocket launcher. I sometimes wonder what the heck is wrong with him. Oh yeah, needless to say that in the first place… I know what’s wrong with him. Let me tell you this: although not so frequently my father gets into a fit of anger (if I couldn’t call it a murderous rage) for no apparent reason. And I’m the one whom he goes berserk on.

Well, he’s tainted in rage with himself. Is there anything I could do about it? I wonder why I go submissive on him whenever he shows his aggressiveness. I ain’t a bully magnet. I guess when the time comes, when I at last couldn’t hold my anger for what he does to me.. which (the anger)I’ve kept in control for my entire life explodes, I might even kill him!!

The thought makes me sick though. He gets mad when he’s moody. But he’s my own father. He shows me love when he’s feeling good. And that’s the only thing that ties me to my self-denial. Maybe I could change him.. Maybe there’s something so wrong inside of him… eating him inside and driving him tempestuous.

I just hope my father becomes a noble man with a good attitude and mannerism. Showing him love might make him a good person…

Don’t laugh at me people; I’m not fooling with myself… I haven’t tried yet, and I’m sure if I did, I will succeed in what I’m determined to do.




The miserable teenager signs off with a sweet smile on his face…..

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hello. im back. atleast for a while, i guess, and im glad i could tell you guys about the ongoing chapters of my life. but guys, im not like any other bisexual who might keep his blogs on sexuality. but since its a part of me, i have to tell you about it too. hate it, or just deal with it.
it really pains me to talk about things which im really uncomfortable on talking about. and thats why ive been keeping my mouth shut on those matters..
well, i really dont have much time to write anything further.. just wanted to update this blog. and i believe this is my worst post ever. but i still have a lot to talk about.
i promise i will be back later..

About the tale of Toomin

My name sounds unusual. Yeah, I know that. And I sound dark and ‘hollow’. That’s okay. And whether I’m from the ‘mists’ or from the sky, I’m not gothic. I’m not creepy. Most people might have thought I am. But I’m not creepy. I’m just different.

I’m Different in just an absolutely different way – just because I cold not even explain that. That would all be a struggle and a waste. That’s why I’m telling you all about my life. You would know me better that way.

Most of the time, the best way to understand someone is through his behavior and manners. I may not show that, so I’m glad I could share my story. Because of what life does to me, I end up raging and battling depression most of the time. And writing this keeps me in control.

I don’t care if anyone reads this but writing this helps me maintain my sanity if nothing else. It keeps me happy.

Realization

Things weren’t good for me always. After a motorbike accident when I was 13 years old has left me into a fate worse than death. I had to stay on bed for about three months and without exercise, I must confess, I grew slightly obese.

Now not only have I lost my life, I have lost myself too, to boo hooers. I would often find someone on the internet through a chat session, and after a few days, we like get attached to each other. What commonly happens on chat. But… everything changes after we meet up. He/she would begin to hate me, and so on.

I have to spend my life like that, all because of my chubbiness. Some have called me cute, but have never ever cared about loving me. You already know the reason right?
Well, that’s about to change.

I have suffered enough. I have bled more than I can remember, and I have been humiliated by almost anyone whom I had gone on a date with. I cannot take it anymore.

Quite recently, while I was surfing the web, I came across a website which displayed non nude images of men, whose bodies were so perfect, as if carved out of stone. I grew jealous, and I also felt miserable inside, for wondering whether I will ever make it like one of them.

I wowed to go to the gym and make myself fit, and after that tone up my body and perfect my physical self.

And so, I have already started going out to the gym, exercise and go to swimming everyday. I can hardly wait to see the look on the faces of those who have humiliated and rejected me.

This time, they would bleed!

"hellish agony"

I grew up shifting from houses to neighborhoods and around families that raised their children with love and care which they tried to give them more than they could have ever shown.

When I walked with my mother along the road to or after school, I saw my fellow schoolmates walking with their parents, and their parents holding their hands proud, but protective.

That’s what I saw when I was a small child. And never really understanding emotions well, I just wondered whether parental care is the best gift that a mother or father could give a child. I never cared about love then. And because I was a child, I wanted toys and other fancy things.

Now, like you people know, I am a grown up man (or still a child? I’m barely legal). I have certain desires and cravings. But the things I yearned for most was the love of my parents. I was raised by a hardworking mother and a selfish father, who, for an unknown reason hates me. I know that my mother loves me and that she is working so hard just to keep me and my siblings well and alive.

As told earlier I have been lacked by my fathers love and care. It has led me in doubt about it and often makes me emotionally ill. My father isn’t a tyrant. But His selfishness and hatred for me always pains me. He doesn’t slap or hurts myself, but his words sometimes made me feel like I was in a tornado. His hatred for me worsened as I grew up. I never know why. I will never even know.

My father is a man who only cares for himself and the pets that’s accompanying him. I and my siblings are his burdens who according to him were spawned only because of my mother. I wonder what made him hate us. Maybe it’s the entity that everyone knows as the Devil. And I don’t consider the devil as a “who”.

My brothers have seen me crying in my sleep and talking to my father in my dreams. It isn’t stupid, or pathetic, because it showed how much I needed the love from him. I wish that someday my father will focus his attention to me and all my siblings. I wish…

I have so much to tell you and keeping it inside is more painful than keeping it out. That’s why I have no hesitation in telling you about my life. Strangely, it makes me happy. I don’t have the courage to talk about it to my father because I fear that he would hate me more. And I believe it isn’t silly or stupid telling you all about my life, and if I am, please, don’t hate me.

Follow your instincts.

When most people face trouble or hardship, the first thing on their mind would be to talk to some friend, hoping to gain peace from whatever obstacle they face. They were wrong, actually. The best way to gain peace is to follow your instincts. I may be wrong, but open up your stubborn minds, and listen to me carefully.

I have faced hardships in my life and I never spoke to any of my friends about it. Not because of shyness, but only because I didn’t want to talk to others about my privacy. So I did every decision myself. I believe that’s what I call following instincts. I did things what I felt were the right things to do. Let me focus for a few years back.

I was in the second grade. But by looking at me people would have thought I was aggressive. Wrong. I was a bully magnet. I cried every day because the boys tormented me every time I enter the classroom. They ate my interval my mom packed for me. I was trapped in a living hell and it nearly made me mentally handicapped.

I realized that I could stop the bullying if I wanted, and since I could, I let them torment me for a while longer. So I waited, biding my time for them to enjoy feasting on their prey.

There was this guy, Ahmed Gazaly, who was my worst nightmare. Every time I saw him, my heart nearly stopped. One day, he stomped on my feet when I was laying my head on the table (you know, we were kids then) and He demanded me to give him my notebook for him to write on it, since he didn’t bring his. I dint give him my book, and I told him that I didn’t want to spoil my books and that my mom would be cross with me. That made him furious and he punched on my face. He hit me so hard that my vision blurred for a few seconds.

And do you guys know what happened?? Surprise, Gazaly. I couldn’t hold my anger and the hatred that I had bundled inside me for so long. Without waiting to be punched again, I attacked him like a hungry beast (I was so angry I didn’t remember what exactly I did to him) well, I remember slashing him and I remember him screaming. The guys who bullied me just stood there gawking in amazement because they didn’t know who I was, until then. It was the teachers who stopped us.
From that day onwards, no one bullied me, neither did anyone dared to become my friend. But they learnt one lesson. One’s instinct is powerful than what they do. And they also learnt one thing. To respect me.

I sailed through elementary school bully free and I learnt to listen to my instincts. Believe me, a man may betray you, but your own instinct wouldn’t.

Time Travel

At eighteen years old, I have to believe that I am now an adult. But sometimes the joyous moments of childhood still lingers with me. During night time, when I lie on my bed to sleep, those thoughts flood my consciousness. It is like it was happening at that moment. It comes out so perfectly clear.

Yesterday I thought of what I would do if I were able to travel through time. In fact, I had a lot on my mind that even now, I still think of what I will do if I were able to do that. Sure I will alter history and if anything goes wrong in my original timeline, I will go back and fix it.

Still I will have to be very careful because my actions may even corrupt reality to the rate that it couldn’t be fixed, and that might even collapse the entire universe. Think of it, it is possible because I would even land somewhere into the future, where it would be possible to roam throughout the galaxy.

There is only a slight possibility of surviving if made myself into the time of the dinosaurs. But I will probably have courage to try to survive, whilst making groundbreaking discoveries about those voracious beasts which roamed our planet millions of years ago. And if I ever come back…Well, not only will I be famous, but I will be rich!

I would someday (since I have the power) make my “in-a-blink-of-an-eye” journey to the sixteenth century where I will land in Italy and somehow observe Leonardo Da Vinci paint Mona Lisa. I would take notes about the painting and I will take my chance to touch it. Another bunch of discoveries would be made

There may be a problem though. I wonder what would have happened to my memories if I did travel through time… would they stay intact with me? Or will I be passing through time with amnesia, lost? I may know how to return to my original timeline, and i may never remember anything that had happened in my journeys to the past and future, while remembering everything in my own reality. If so, time travel will be a nightmare no matter how interesting it seems.