Tear This Place Apart
Chapter 1
'Well this sucks.' I muttered to myself.
As if being 8716 miles away from home isn't bad enough. Education is one thing, but having my life choices dictated by my dad because he "felt bad for not giving the so-called proper education to his children" is another. He should have thought of that before moving to the States to seek new opportunities and whatever shit he has in mind. It's not like I hate my dad, but I don't love him either.
The complicated relationship that I have with my dad bugs me sometimes. My parents split up when I was 12, but I didn't really care. In fact, I wanted my parents to file for a divorce as soon as possible. And that's kinda scary. As I reached my teenage years, there's this hate going on in my heart and I put the blame on my dad for almost everything. Eventually I forgave him, because after all, he is still my dad. We were on good terms then.
And then came the time when I turned 18.
Receiving endless calls regarding my university choices on the first week of senior year from my dad was a pain in the ass. It was always about me studying abroad, taking up a course I wasn't passionate about, marrying a rich dude, and living the socialite life by the time I'm 25. My mom decided to contribute to the headaches I've been receiving by luring me to take up a course in Med School. I already had plans of my own. To study Psychology in the prestigious Gadjah Mada University and write research papers with cool titles like "Why Cool Kids Cut?" and pursue my dreams in the music/journalism business.
But noooooooo.
I'm currently 19, just got my ass kicked out from Indonesia to pursue engineering in the San Diego State University (against my will, of course), living all alone in an apartment, and my sink just broke.
I had no choice. It was either Med School or Engineering. And only God knows how terrified I am at the sight of blood and needles. Well, cheers to the rest of my university years.
Oh yeah, about the sink. Fuck.
As if being 8716 miles away from home isn't bad enough. Education is one thing, but having my life choices dictated by my dad because he "felt bad for not giving the so-called proper education to his children" is another. He should have thought of that before moving to the States to seek new opportunities and whatever shit he has in mind. It's not like I hate my dad, but I don't love him either.
The complicated relationship that I have with my dad bugs me sometimes. My parents split up when I was 12, but I didn't really care. In fact, I wanted my parents to file for a divorce as soon as possible. And that's kinda scary. As I reached my teenage years, there's this hate going on in my heart and I put the blame on my dad for almost everything. Eventually I forgave him, because after all, he is still my dad. We were on good terms then.
And then came the time when I turned 18.
Receiving endless calls regarding my university choices on the first week of senior year from my dad was a pain in the ass. It was always about me studying abroad, taking up a course I wasn't passionate about, marrying a rich dude, and living the socialite life by the time I'm 25. My mom decided to contribute to the headaches I've been receiving by luring me to take up a course in Med School. I already had plans of my own. To study Psychology in the prestigious Gadjah Mada University and write research papers with cool titles like "Why Cool Kids Cut?" and pursue my dreams in the music/journalism business.
But noooooooo.
I'm currently 19, just got my ass kicked out from Indonesia to pursue engineering in the San Diego State University (against my will, of course), living all alone in an apartment, and my sink just broke.
I had no choice. It was either Med School or Engineering. And only God knows how terrified I am at the sight of blood and needles. Well, cheers to the rest of my university years.
Oh yeah, about the sink. Fuck.
11/18/13