Rage Against Everything

Last night I went to bed at 11. And yet I couldn't sleep until 2.30 am.

People were screaming and shouting two doors down the corridor. And outside my window, people were blowing into the vuvuzela, even at 2am.

I know it's the World Cup, I know it was Japan vs Paraguay, I know it's only once every four years. But it doesn't mean you can just disrupt other people's lives at your will.

I spent the night lying on my bed crying. I had so much rage and grudge in me, and yet I couldn't yell or scream. It felt weird, to cry, because I hadn't cried for a very long time.

The last time I cried in front of people, it was my parents. I used to throw tantrums as a child, so my parents taught me not to show emotions in public. I always have to force myself to hold everything in, suppress every emotion and feeling in me. That one time when I broke down in tears, my parents had considered sending me to a shrink.

I tend to drive people away; I'm just a cold, heartless bitch who doesn't show emotions or sympathy. But the one time I need someone beside me, it's too late. I don't know how, or when, or if it's something I did, but I feel like I'm losing my friends.

Last night was probably the worst night of my life. I was all alone, and nobody noticed.