Thursday 5th July, 2012. 19:44
I’ve never really attempted or felt the need to form a diary extract; though now I believe that I have no choice. The past few weeks have been arduous, with numerous teeth-pulling occasions for which I had to endure. It sounds like I’m writing from a prison cell, awaiting a murder trial; you’d never perceive that I was a fourteen, soon to be fifteen, year old boy having problems in his own home.
Today began with an argument far out of the ordinary. What sort of arguments do most teenagers have with their parents? ‘Mum, you don’t give me enough pocket money,’ or ‘Mum, I don’t have enough freedom.’ Well usually, my arguments end up with my mum using verbal abuse against me. Tonight’s phrase was ‘You’re a tell-tale, turncoat coward!’
Other nights it is usually ‘pompous,’ followed by some lovely mockery which cannot even be transposed into text. No, I’m not a mugger or a thief; I understand that it is quite easy to become mistaken. I’m the son of a mother who thinks she’s playing house and I’m the doll. Dolls don’t have lives; they’re not real, thus they cannot voice opinions and do not require or have a right to speak when they think something is wrong or defend them from a tirade of abuse. In a nutshell, this is my life; but as far as I am concerned, you know nothing.
What I have had to put up with in the past is irrelevant. The past is irreversible; the future is volatile beyond belief. Not even I can determine what will happen both tomorrow and in the next ten minutes. What I do know is that the past has happened; we mustn’t dwell on it like we have been doing for bygone years. It may sound stupid, but even a few pieces of paper can destroy a family.
People believe that I want trouble. They believe that I am overjoyed by watching my family disintegrate around me. I love fuelling problems, transforming them into disasters; irreversible happenings that will change life and mind-set for years to come. That’s what they think…
The thing that many don’t understand is that I have a great life ahead of me. I possess sufficient intelligence and a great number of personal attributes that I can bring to my life. My dream is to fly. A life where every dawn offers a new challenge. A life which never becomes tedious and uninteresting. Achieving my goal doesn’t require too much; very little in fact.
17th July, that's my birthday. In less than two weeks’ time it will be here. I do not ask for anything in particular for my birthday. Where years ago, quantity was most important, times for me have drastically changed. Quality matters more than anything else in the world. Gifts no longer mean what they previously meant; the thought is the most important part of a birthday. For my birthday, I want one thing…
I wish that I could turn back time and change all the bad happenings in my life. Maybe if the guys in Area 51 got a move on with Einstein’s Philadelphia experiment, we could’ve had a chance. The truth is that it is never going to happen. We’ve got to make use of what we still have, and that for me is our family relationship.
At times our family is like a set of porcelain mantelpiece dolls; when untouched they are perfect just sitting there getting on with life. However, the slightest touch of exterior interference and our family falls from a great height, from the mantelpiece to the floor. The force leaves our family dolls in tatters. It’s a mess. Other people see it the same way. I suppose the only way to clean the mess up is for the owner of the house to take action accordingly. Fetch a dustpan and brush and pick up the pieces; the shattered remains of severed relationships.
The pieces lay apart from each other for a little while due to high tensions within the family. After some time, the mess of pieces lying on the kitchen worktop awaiting repair is unsightly. Who wants to look at the shattered remains of a family? Somebody in the house decides to glue the pieces back together…
One by one, the broken relationships of the people are brought back together. At first it seems awkward trying to accommodate yourself into normal family life; this is why the doll is left on the worktop for some time allowing the glue to dry. Some time has passed, the glue has dried, and the bonds between the family members are secure enough to resume life as it used to be. The doll is restored to its home place on the mantelpiece.
I’ll be honest, I didn’t think that something so simple and so normal could describe my life. But what I forget is that regardless of the severity of a situation, all families are generic. They all experience fallouts, in some cases it seems more like nuclear fallout, but nevertheless, nobody’s perfect. It is for this reason that we have to just take things as they come to us and make the most out of everything we can. Life is a complex ballgame, but like many ball games, the rules and regulations are often simple.
If we stick to these regulations, we will find ourselves running for the goal, though not on our own. Together as a family, passing the ball between us as we go. The defenders are the obstacles, the people who attempt to ruin our lives. Yet, obstacles are made to be avoided, and they can be avoided with determination and perseverance.
Don’t look at the clock to see how much time we have left, it’s irrelevant. Time is always running out in this game and we need to make use of every second we have in order to win. In our family team there are always some people who you don’t get along with. We as a family must avoid this. We may want to hold possession of the ball and not pass to a family member, thinking that we know better than them. However, this is usually the wrong decision. Sometimes, you just have to pass the ball to the ones you dislike and play the game properly. That way, we all get to kick the ball, we all get to contribute to the team, and if we all work together, our chances of winning are far more probable.
On our exterior, our appearances can provide false information about us. In my case, yes I may appear pompous at times and possibly a turncoat, but that is my exterior. On the inside, it’s far from that. Look at a glue stick or even a roll of tape. Glue sticks appear hard on their exterior, although when you look deeper inside, they are soft and adhesive, very useful for sticking materials together. Tape on the outside appears round and hard. Look a little deeper and you find it can be cut into many shapes and is sticky and quite useful.
The aforementioned glue used to repair the broken doll is just like the glue stick. It represents the relationships generated from the people within the family. Relationships may appear hard on the outside, but on the inside, they are very different things.
As I said previously, my birthday is fast approaching and judging by the present situation, it may not be as good as I hoped. Even on the 17th July last year my birthday was spoiled in France by members of our family. I do not ask for gifts, I ask for peace. A normal birthday from which I can in the future recall the good memories. Let’s face it, my childhood is drawing to an end. Soon, I’ll be in the big wide world, on my own, living my life. I’ll soon be making my own decisions and peoples’ control over me will be lessened.
Today has been a long day, and it’s now coming to an end. I’ll soon be asleep, assimilating all of the day’s happenings as I do. Maybe, hopefully I will awake tomorrow to a fresh start. Maybe, hopefully the glue will have set and relationships will once more be re-joined and hopefully for the long term. At the moment our doll is shattered on the floor. Who knows when it will be fixed? I don’t know when but I do know this. There will be a time, maybe tomorrow, tonight or even next week, when somebody will take the action required to repair our current state. For me, a mess is usually long term; you only have to take one peek at my room and you’ll see. But there comes a day when I get sick of it and I tidy it up. It is not my duty to clean up this mess, nor is it solely anybody else’s. It is a joint job requiring more than one person. The pieces on the floor are fine and plentiful. The pieces represent our family problems. The more pieces, the more problems, the more people are required to help fix it and the harder it becomes to fix. Though it is not impossible, and deep down we all know that. So do us a favour, pick up a dust pan and brush and get us back onto that mantelpiece where we belong. You may know nothing, but nothing is ever impossible…
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