nous ne pouvons pas

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people who know me well are aware of the fact that i don't anger easily. i get irritated and frustrated more quickly than the average person, but anger is something else. i don't get mad. it takes a lot to get me mad.
but when i do, it's that much harder for me to forgive.

i realized that when i'm at home, i'm always angry. furious, as if hurt and rendered incapable of avenging myself.
and what's worse is that i can't express my anger. i can't yell, because that's just rude and irrational. i can't converse about it in a healthy way, because you just don't do that with korean parents. and i can't rebel outright or be disrespectful, because regardless of the fury i harbor, it's impossible to not be aware that my parents deserve respect.

so it just sits and festers. the anger, pent up like a rabid, caged animal, simmers and morphs into a more virulent antagonism, a resentful impatience with everyone and everything. i can't stand to be in my skin.

i can't stand to be at home.
i can't call this home.













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