Methinks parents should welcome a child home with spirits of sweet-naturedness, lest the child detests returning to the abode more and more each day.
If children come home to warmth and love, they would look forward to doing so every day. The security, sweetness, familiarity. The happy conversations at the dinner table. The celebration of Christmas as a family.
However, if children come home to shouting people, angry glares, insensitivity and countless fears, they'd dislike coming home, wouldn't they?
The idea of moving out entered my mind tonight. I had just spent several hours with D having dinner and studying, him with his Business Stats, and I with my Chemistry homework, and was doing a self-reflection during the bus-ride home.
This seems torturous and unfair, the time I waste travelling home each day and being yelled at for it. It's not as if I could make the bus go any faster. What's more, the distance remains the same. It's as much a waste of my time as it is for my parents. I find I feel more and more fed up with living so far from school and everyone I know.
I didn't really entertain the idea of moving out, for it would not be simple. Firstly, I would have to find someplace to stay, near school, in the east. It would probably cost a lot of money, which leads me to my second point, being too swamped with studies, CCA and other things to get a job.
My God, what do I do?
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