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Dear Mum,

I hate the fact that you were too scared to let me hurt when I was a kid. I was always protected the by four corners of my prison cell (our house), and that you didn’t let me try to enjoy. Yes I played with my cousins, and yes I played with the neighbors, but every time I would scrape my skin on the streets or fall and get my shorts teared, you always lock me back inside. I wish you had made me take ballet or gymnastics, instead of that really boring jazz class. I wish I learned to ride the bike when I was seven, not fourteen. I wish I had told you that I didn’t like going to summer art classes.

Partly my fault I guess. Or maybe 2/3 of it was my fault, because on the latter part of my childhood it seemed that my mum would just make me decide. So strike that Dear Mum at the top and let’s make it Dear Mikee.

Dear Mikee,

Dear World,

Hi, I am one of the nobodies on Earth. And here I am, pathetically writing a letter to something that cannot read. I am insecure about my writing skills and I like to look at awesome pictures and read blogs and then feel bad for myself. I wish that instead of getting dirty outside the house, I had the decency of a lady to sit inside and read the encyclopedia my mother bought from the sales man that visited the school. I wish that instead of enrolling in a summer jazz class, I took ballet and honed my skills and be a better dancer now. I watch Youtube videos of kids doing ballet and those shows that just make me cry and I stand in front of my laptop giving the dancers and ovation. See? Pathetic. I am a 20 year old sulking about the what-ifs of my past and future. I can’t even get my thoughts straight on this if-you-can-call-this-a-blog. Messed up. Totally.

Society dictates that this is the age of discovery, where people at my age start to explore life, do start up jobs, proceed to grad school, be parents, marry, travel, whatever. I, however, spend my discovery age doing a stuck up menial job, drink my tutor money on weekends, kill time my killing my lungs, and just stare blankly into space. What has happened to me.

I don’t even have the slightest idea how to end this shiz. I think I have to go defrost my dinner now.

I know this post doesn’t make sense, but hey, the world doesn’t either, so hooray!

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