Ragepost

I hate being dependent. I hate having to wait and see and remind people that I need things from them, and then waiting and reminding again. Mostly I hate telling people I need things from them, especially when I can't give them anything in return. This is probably a form of pride, that says I ought to be self-sufficient enough to not have my standard of life depend on other people; it's also a form of fear, because I don't think any human exists who's so trustworthy that I can depend unconditionally on them for anything and everything. Only One such exists, and He is not human, although He once was. (And for all I know, from His perception He still is.)

...problems in my life tend to revolve around a few things. I'm a simple person--at least I like to think so--my problems tend to revolve around money, electronics, time, and me. Occasionally other people are problems too, but I'm so good at running away from my people problems that I rarely have any sort of long-lasting trouble in that department. At the moment the most pressing one is money.

I suppose I should warn you that there's a good deal of ranting ahead. Well, maybe not very much. But it's ranting nonetheless.

I hate depending on people, especially my parents. Hate, hate, hate having to rely on them to supply me with the money I need to pay my tuition with. I'm partly glad they're in China and can't read this, because if they could their first response would be to shoot me a sarcastic email in which they'd say something to the effect of "if you don't like asking us for money then we're not going to give you any more". At the moment I have a little over SGD200 in my bank account; in 11 days the University will want to deduct a little over 11k from it. That 11k is unlikely to be there--I hope it will be--but at the moment how can it be?--, partly because my parents are in China and dislike teletransferring money because of the ruinous service tax. At the same time there is nobody travelling between there and here, and thus nobody to bring a cheque over for me to deposit; the next likely travel will be when the Gobbler comes back, or when my father comes over, and that will be at least four days after the University wants the money.

Why the University wants the money when I'm not even having classes or lab sessions is... well, it's not quite beyond me. Money is always desirable and we the students just don't have the sort of leverage we need to rise up and say "to heck and insufficient light with you, but we're going to demand that we pay less when we GET less". But that's a rant unto itself, along with the ever-controversial S/U-after-exams issue.

I don't know. It's just so galling to have to ask, semester after semester, for money; they always ask how much it is, as if I haven't already repeated myself hundreds of times, and I hate repeating myself when the information has been clearly transmitted once already. I don't know about other people, but I do tend to remember my responsibilities--at least, the heavier ones that repeat themselves at regular intervals. And every time I remind them that it's a new semester and I need money again, they always, always ask why it's such a huge amount and can they pay it as late as possible and could I possibly work a little harder next semester and get a scholarship, because obviously I'm not working hard enough because I don't have stellar grades and they're certain I could be the top entry in the Dean's List if only I'd apply myself a little more and if I absolutely have to pay it could I possibly bend a few rules or something to get cheaper rates.

...so yeah. Money. I need it, lots of it, and the people I need it from are less than willing to give it to me--at least, that's my perception.

I don't seem very trusting of my parents, do I? But I don't think I do, not very much. I mean, I trust them to not, say, poison me or murder me in my sleep; but that's about the same level of trust that my roommate has. What do I not trust them for? I don't trust them to be entertaining--because they hate fiction in all its forms--, accurate--I stopped treating them as sources of infallible knowledge after I was eight, when I was told to read 岛 as 盘 and it resulted in great embarrassment for me--, generous--see the above rant--, kindly, informative, caring, leisurely, or relaxed (both my Fourth Aunt and I agree that my father hasn't ever really relaxed since the 1970s). I don't think I've ever spent any extended time with them that didn't end in shouting, silent treatments, cold shoulders, physical attacks, or guilt tactics. In fact it's usually all of the above. It was driven home the last time I was in Patience; I spent a month there by myself, more or less relaxed and leisurely, and then they arrived, with siblings, and instantly whatever sense of it being a holiday evaporated, except for momentary interludes. That should not be the way holidays are. Holidays should be long periods of leisure, with interludes of work. But they are not, not in my parents' dictionary at least.

Yes, I wish the relationship were better. But it won't be until we're equals and I can just shrug off everything they pull because it will not have any effect on me. And that will not occur until I am self-sufficient, at least financially. Screw further education. I want a job. I can adapt to poverty, but I detest my current financial situation. Do I sound angry? I am angry. But what can I do about it? Pray. Punch a wall. What else is there to be done? Email them. I already have. They haven't replied. Am I to email again, and again, once every day like a countdown?

My clothes have finished washing. I am going to collect them and hang them up. I have to go to the office tomorrow, which means early waking.

...years in the future I shall re-read this and shake my head, murmuring about how ragey I was in my youth. But that is years away. My siblings, if they read this, will... well, they don't read my blog. But even if they do, what then? It'll be the ones outside China who read it, and all they'll be able to do is email the parents. And what then? More sarcastic emails. Maybe the emails will not be sarcastic and will drip honey, and then once I let down my guard and mention grades or money, the honey will vanish faster than my first plate of food at a buffet.