Pieces

Tune: Pieces by Red


I'm here again, a thousand miles away from you
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard, thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way


My beloved dearies... I feel torn-up. If I could mitigate this feeling, only by one-tenth of this sensation that it currently is, I would be at least 50% more satisfied with myself. Unfortunately, this is not the case; I have apparently run out of ways to... to make myself a more useful person where I am, at this very moment.

'Tis the side-effect of seeing human beings more efficacious (if this word even applies correctly), garnered by the world wide web... To say it's dispiriting is an understatement. All those achievements at such a young age, adept at utilising resources to the maximum potential... Earning money by four figures while I'm still here snivelling and dependent on my Dad's monthly allowance! I love my Dad for that. He says it's his responsibility until I get my own job; until I get a (hopefully decent) husband.

But these unbelievably inspirational people... they're already from well-off families, to put the icing on the cake. No, screw icing. How about some decorative form of marzipan? Because honestly, I've been told I should imagine I'm from a more unfortunate background to work myself that extra bit harder; to conceive the notion of struggling through everything just so I can escape the life that I already have. And there they are, on greener pastures yet still toiling like their lives depended on it...

I need my inspiration. My reasons for living, for pulling through the knee-deep mud field that life's difficulties are. As I am yet incapable of turning to God for the ultimate source of comfort without His worldly gifts for me, I instantly thought of the people who matter the most to me. Mom and Dad I've communicated with within this week. I still miss them a lot...

But I miss my adorable little brothers and sisters more, because I haven't even spoken to them for almost a month now. And it f**king sucks that I haven't even gotten their pictures to ease my heartache.

I settled with the next best thing- the most vivid memories I can conjure in my mind's eye. I need them all the more because going through turmoiled simply gives you more emo depth than normal circumstances would allow.


Then I'll see your face, I know I'm finally yours
I find everything I thought I lost before
You call my name, I come to you in pieces
So you can make me whole


My youngest brother coming back from school for the lunch break as I washed the dishes. Running to hug me from behind as I washed the plates contemplatively, staring out the window above the sink into the neat, grassy garden bordered by the white wall, beyond which the roof of the school building rose, seen between the trees lining the back wall. The doorbell chime ends to start again, letting in my youngest little sister in a flurry of soft curly hair and - and her most adorable babyjackets...

It is but the greatest irony how I find my youngest little sister at her cutest in her appropriately-named babyjackets, whilst my youngest little brother looks most precious in that oversized sweater of his. The attire that never failed them an extra long, extra crushing and most importanly very annoying hug from me.

In my mind's eyes I see them as 2-feet tall midgets- not in the deformed sense, but in the portrayal of how babyish I perceive them to be, even when they are only a few years shy of turning into teenagers.

My little baby angels are going to turn into teenagers.

It's a very disturbing fact that this fact is disturbing me so much.

But they still relent to my suffocating affection. Allow me that extra tight hug, those painful cheek pinches, my cooing over how cute they are (which should be hard, considering how they are too grown-up for my babyish cooings). I know they don't mind even if they constantly voice out otherwise because their eyes show that glimmer of affection back at me, as if they were fully comprehending their rarely-around eldest sister's need to... well, suffocate them with her 'limited edition' love.

I mean seriously. Why do I have to be so far away from them? More importantly, will I ever learn to cope with the distance?

... My youngest little sister's adorable demonstration of how the new weird-looking toaster works, complete with the final 'Ting!' and a 'Tadaa~!' that I torment her with every single day after that because it was so ethereally cute... And misleading. Of all of us, I have to admit that at her age, she shows the greatest promise of being The Responsible One, despite her kawaii-ness and totally childish crushes *snickers* DON'T TELL HER I SAID THAT!

... My youngest little brother's heart-swelling, butt-kicking athletic prowess which witnessed the downfall of each and every one of his other classmates on Sports Day (except for that Scottish kid with that annoying blonde mohawk who's a grade older than him and supposed to be in the other category, who pushed my brother 3 metres from the finish of the 400m run and succeded in making my brother land second place because he's about a foot taller and half a foot wider than my brother... right after that event he sat on the side of the track and complained of how badly his feet hurt, resulting in his non-participation in every event afterwards bar the final tug-of-war *cough*serveshimright!*cough*)

Then there are my already-teenage oldest little sister and oldest little brother. Annoying former, though we are so undeniably alike in numerous, surprising ways... And the best, most understanding teenage little brother any sister in the world can ever have.


I've come undone
But you make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in your eye


She's the annoying brat in the family, our very own drama queen, the FedEx member. She's beautiful but never seemed to indicate any sign that she realizes that, which is for the better. We pick on almost everything she does, with good reason; she tends to mess up just about everything!
... And yet our tastes just click. Proven most recently by the cash shop items chosen by me in a new private server MMORPG I've tried: after each item of my initial choosing my youngest little brother would (squeak) say 'But that's what she chose earlier', to my great consternation.
Not to mention her taste in girly books exactly match mine, a fact I still deny even as I sneakily snatch a book or two from the bookshelf in her room for some light late-night reading. I know she wouldn't mind, but I wouldn't give her the pleasure of knowing that I enjoy the same books as she does, no matter how partial her tastes are to mine. It's a weird sisterly love that I reserve specially for her. I definitely do not have the same fashion sense and conscience as she does though. And from what I can derive from my parents, our intelligence sets us apart the furthest. I take that as a compliment. Evil me.

He's my oldest friend within the family, the closest human being to me apart from my Mom. Possibly closer to me than my Mom. We share 97% or our secrets with each other, an almost-impossible feat for any other twenty-year-old sister and eighteen-year-old brother.
... In fact, he means so much to me I can't even begin to describe him. Ever so understanding, yet funny and annoying. Ever so caring, yet oblivious to our existence at times. So oblivious he incurs the wrath of T3h M1ghty Dadz0r almost every dinnertime during the weekends when he's home! Yet everyone loves him and it doesn't even spark the slightest bit of envy from me... Okay, it does sometimes, when Mom wouldn't quit talking about how perfect he is in her eyes. Despite the fact that she smothers him with a lot of attention, I could never induce vomiting for his part because...he deserves every usually-vomit-inducing part of the praises sung for him.


I tried so hard, so hard
I tried so hard


And no matter how much less I need to rely on their existence in my memories when they're not around, however hard I try...