Ladies and gentlemen. Here I am today, I guess. Still in one piece. This isn't easy for me, not one bit. Every relationship that I share, friends, family, etc. has been, and still is being tested. I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I've been cornered like an animal being hunted. I AM being hunted. They are trying to decompose my mind, to brainwash me and turn me into one of their minions. They are pressing their religion on me, and I refuse to accept any of it. I simply refuse. Call me ignorant, call me uneducated. Call me whatever you want, but I won't give in, I simply won't. I'm grabbing whatever I can get my hands on. But see, the problem is that I don't have much to grab. Pretty soon all I'm going to be left with are my fists, and that's when it's going to get ugly. But when can I do, i'm being forced into this situation. Never have I understood the motivation for crime more than I do now.
I'm going to be honest now. Completely motherfucking honest. I don't want to complain. I can't complain. I know I have to suck it up and just do what I have to do. I know I have to fight out of here, and I can't complain in the process. But it's not that easy, see. Imagine being born into one culture, then thrust into another as soon as you just got a hold of the first culture. Almost no understanding of language or traditions. Nothing.
This is all the result of my parents' actions. Everything that I have done, everything that I am doing, and everything I will ever do, from now on. I've always hoped that they'd never really be a big part of my life. Even while I was still living back in Walnut, I never really desired to stay home. I was always either at school, out, or at the gym. That's it. Home for me, was a place where I kept my clothes and where I slept. But still, I wanted to be emancipated. I knew that nothing would become of me if I stayed with them. And I never gave it much thought, or action. And here I am today, as a direct result of that.
The last eight months of my life have been dedicated to something very unusual. They have been dedicated to my past. My past, so that I could discard the present, and pick up right from there. Right from where I made the biggest mistake of my life, the biggest regret of my existence. Like I said, I'm trapped, and I am tortured with thoughts of my past every day.
I'm a mostly honest person. I don't like to lie, but I will if I am forced to. But I'm being honest, so trust me. My parents always told me that my friends would never be of any use to me in my lifetime. My parents always stressed the fact that they, themselves are the building blocks of our lives. They're old school, y'know? But what can I do about it? And they place religion over everything else. I can't take it with them, I just can't. But anyways, I'm a 2nd generation immigrant. Meaning, My parents were the generation that immigrated from another country, in this case, Pakistan. My dad sailed the ocean blue (illegally, of course) just about a little more than 25 years ago, and they reached the "Land of Opportunities". My dad stayed and worked there. He didn't feel the need to come back, except once. To marry. The marriage between them was arranged, as older tradition mandates. They marry, mom gets a free ticket to the United States. But first, she stays for about 11 months after their marriage. I am born on Pakistani ground. I am 2 months old when I board that plane and I land on US soil on March 1st, 1994. I can say, the best day of my life.
Since my parents are 1st generation immigrants, this implies many things. They follow the old school of thought. They can never understand more modern technology or schools of thought. My parents hated the culture. They hated everything that had to do with it. They hated me. But they loved two things. No, three things. Money, respect, and their daughters. They loved money and respect because they never have had it before in their lives. And their daughters, well, only because they were still young, still able to be brainwashed. My parents are also like stereotypical parents, where they desire their children to become either, a) doctors, or b) engineers. And why? Not for the respect. But the money. Oh, the money. That's all they wanted. For themselves, and for us. They don't understand me. It's not like I was too complicated for them. They just wouldn't care enough, though. They are ignorant. That's it.
Enough about them, the main point is that they put me through all this. June 6, 2009 marked the end of the 2009 school year. The following summer was supposed to be the best of my life. I had just been accepted into Peer Counseling, I had a beautiful, wonderful girlfriend, I was closer with my friends than I had been with anyone my entire life. I was also to get a job for a little while just to make some money to last me for a little while. My plan was to be busy. Always be busy. Either at work. Or at summer school. Or training for peer counseling. Or out. And when I had to sleep, I'd come home. Then the following morning I'd wake up and shower. Then I'd change. Then I'd eat, depending on if I felt like it. Then I'd leave, only to return late, just to sleep. My parents knew this. They knew it was coming. But I never would have done it this way, if it weren't for them. They had created a circle of hatred. They hated me, and I despised me. Never had I felt so strongly against someone, as much as I hated my parents. And now, now is no exception.
Today is Friday, February 19, 2010. It is 1:38 Am. I am sitting in a house constructed of only concrete walls and roofs. I am sitting in front of a lousy computer which looks very ancient, and a monitor which was probably louder than the speakers connected. I have just logged into my BlogSpot after god knows how long. I decided that it was time to finally give it a try. And it worked. My dad had found my passwords and they had changed my email address and Myspace account passwords. For the last 8 months, they sit virtually untouched because of this. But I am attempting to reset my Myspace password, and hopefully I will be successful. Today, I am in the very backwards country of Pakistan. Where natural gas, electricity, honesty and hospitality are scarce. And water is abundant. But not drinking water, I'm talking about sewer water, as in when the sewers overflow and the streets are flooded with fetid water. And today, I can say, with proof, that this is all their fault. It is their greed that drove them, and their pursuit of respect within the Muslim community in Walnut. With unclean intentions, they have tricked me into wasting 8 months of my life. Things will never be the same. But I'm not giving up. I'm still here, I'm still holding on, and I'm ready to do anything that I can, to secure my freedom. I. Need. To. Get. Out. Of. Here.
I guess all that I have typed so far hasn't made any sense, or even if it has, you realized that it isn't important. But it doesn't matter. So long as you realize that today, I am alive. And I am fighting. And I dream of that day, when I am free.
Today, I am alive.
