I have to believe that there are moments of uncorruptable beauty in this earth.

So I woke up today at Gitu's house from a nightmare, a terrible one. The whole morning striving to revive the  images brought me into such a bad mood, I literally snapped at everyone that attempted to communicate with me or did I? Though surprisingly, the very boring and monotonous lessons kept me sane for the day.
We went for lunch at some wine house place, which at first looks too fancy for me to even have the bravery to step inside. Shockingly, lunch and dinner are served at around 7 bucks. I'm totally going there tomorrow.
Last night I was a sponge that absorbed all of Gitu's frustration. Though she did share some very disturbing information that I did not need to know, disgusted seems like such a harsh word but it was what I felt at that moment. Thank god the moment passed, and I learned to live with knowing too much about someone I do care about.
7 essays are still waiting for me, damn the agony that crept through by whole body whenever I admit it. Literature is a fabulous subject; it brings you to heaven and hell in the same tiny classroom, with the same tedious people.
My mum happens to be again extremely unreasonable where I usually suffer a sequel of abusive verbal tormenting, the cruel glance and the harsh insults. Sometimes her words can put me through hell where I undergo anguish, fear, insecurity and ambiguity.. She would put down my confidence and command me to do this and that in order to please my Step Dad. Yes, she would put emphasis on the "Step Dad" to stress me about how this is not my house, not my money; "so you better behave" she would add at the end of every sentence. I'm sick of it, I'm sick of being just a tool for people to control. I'm not some orphan kid living under her roof as a charity case, or am I?
Despite the tears and anger that occur once in a while, I can't choose my family now can I.. I guess what doesn't kill you will always leave a scar..