A rose in a flower shop

When I was in sec 4, this guy I didn't like described my good friend at the time as a rose in a flower shop. He said, "Haven't you noticed how roses from shops only bloom once they're out of the shop? The shopkeeper controls their environment such that their growth is inhibited."

Well, I feel like that rose.

It doesn't matter that sec 4 seems like a zillion years ago, or that the good friend is someone I don't talk to anymore due to some unknown conflict, or that this guy is someone I'm considering renewing a friendship with. The elements outside might have changed but I'm still in the shop.

My dad thinks the ex is a freak. This fabulous insight into the ex's character is based on the dreadlocks he used to have. It doesn't matter that the ex was intelligent, responsible and funny. My dad shut him off the moment he saw the dreadlocks and labeled him a "freak". According to him, no person in their right mind would make their hair stand like that. To which I replied, "I would. But I don't coz you would kick me out."

Heh, I'm suddenly reminded how Cia and Jan expressed disbelief when I said my dad would kick me out of the house if I shaved my head. But I know my dad better than them...He would do it in a heartbeat.

You see, he wants this perfect normal family that gives him face. He stamps out any abnormality that doesn't conform to what society thinks is a good, normal person. Everything he does is for face. Renovating the flat, visiting relatives, he even complains about washing the clothes coz he doesn't like the idea that people think he's the maid. It never occurs to him I get so proud when he does that coz it shows he isn't as much of a chauvinist as he makes himself out to be. He really isn't as bad as I make him sound, he just has a different set of ideals than I do.

The thing he doesn't get is that I'm as much of a "freak" as the ex. The ex just has a mum who accepts him no matter how zany he gets. He's the outward manisfestation of what I am on the inside but never had a chance nor the guts to show.

The most I can do is cut my hair short when I want my head bald, dye streaks when I want electric red hair, write secret blogs when I want to lash out, use the Internet when I want to discourse and wax lyricals when I'm upset.

I look through all these old photos of myself and see how awkward I was, never knowing how to be myself without overstepping the boundaries. Always trying to balance two ideals, two identities...I remember how I used to be ostracised in school just because I was weird. Now, I have people to be weird with and it's as close to freedom as I can get at this point in my life.

I love you guys.