The pains of growing up.

My course has made me quite nihilistic than I was as a child. I frown and throw around ramblings yadayada 'Life sucks' at the age of 12, a pseudo-emo phase I shared with my friends, when at that time I was actually living without a care, or meaningful purpose apart from pleasing my friends who I no longer contact anymore and doing well for my exams.

But how can 'life suck' at the age of 12? Seriously?

Sure you're under the authority of the adults, but you get to rebel and get away with it. You get to negotiate your 'lack of power' and turn it against the adults. You get to say something hurtful and forget it the next minute. You get to essentially behave like a child. At 12, you are actually having a time of your life.

At 12, I had a functioning family. I had parents who didn't throw plates at each other. I had a computer which my brother and I compromised (after much effort) and shared. I had food on the table. Junk food in the cabinets. At 12, I was smart enough to stand on a chair to reach for it. I was obese but weight was never really had an issue with me that which seriously seriously disturbed me the way it disturbed Lindsay Lohan. I had metaphorical bruises along the way, but never felt the need to cover them up because they eventually disappear.

Growing up was HARDLY painful. You wanna know what's painful?

Politics is painful (or at least what they say is). Government controlled media is painful. Censorship is painful. Racism is painful. The NEP is painful. KL traffic is painful. Being broke is painful. Watching the homeless people in streets of Melbourne was painful. Fake people are painful. Assignments are painful. Unrequited love is painful. Failed love, even worse.

The seriousness of these emotional pains, the intensity, the uncontrollable circumstances that only arise when one becomes aware of bigger things in life. These are authorities you CANNOT rebel, NOW THAT IS PAINFUL.

The next kid who says life sucks just because he didn't get a toy he wanted for his birthday will get a slap some advice from me.

"Deal with it, bitch. Or go to Afghanistan."

I'm 22. And I still bruise myself. I know some bruises like this stay and essentially make you what you become. Perhaps that's life's purpose.