I am Jane and I want to know

You thought me that telling lies is a bad habit.
Please tell me,
would you rather I lie to you that I love you,
or would you rather I tell you the truth that I hate you?

Someone please teach me how to be happy.
You think I enjoy feeling like that?

I am Jane, Pirated Copy and Original Version

I know, I know.
I have nothing else to talk about other than my mother.
These few days, I've been wondering,
we all know what happens to girls with daddy issues,
how about girls with mummy issues?
I've seen various versions.
They all point to one thing.
And I want so badly to get out of this vicious cycle that I've decided to put myself into again,
willingly.

On a side note, I feel like this is the beginning of 2006 again.
I can't remember if I wrote this down,
but about a year ago,
I began being not not unhappy.
Don't bother wondering why so many negatives.
I would say that most things in my life were going smoothly.
But that one person was slowly drifting away from my life.
I was in denial for about a year.
And then I decided to call it quits.
Now I'm the bad person.
But I really can't be bothered.
The same people who decided that I was a good person,
a kind soul who wouldn't hurt anyone,
a compassionate being who would rather be hurt than to see anyone else hurt.
They are now the same persons who think that I'm this crazy bitch who decided to walk away.
Truth is, I've been hurt enough.
And that's that.
I think I'm fine with it now.
Ignore me all you want.
I will find new people to surround myself with.

Speaking of which, after three years of abstinence (er, not what you're thinking about),
I decided to throw myself into the whirlpool again.
I was bored.
They were there.
And now, we are here.
But I can't handle this anymore.
I guess I don't have what it takes to be such a big bitch.
But in my head, I still want to carry on.
Tell me I'm crazy.

Back on track,
this huge question mark has been resting its weight on my head for this whole week.
We all know that whatever I do is never good enough for my parents.
And we all know that whatever I do, good or bad, always gets twisted into some form of devastation towards my parents.
And then I thought,
"If they already think that way about me,
what difference is it going to make if I actually do such things?"
It's like, if you think the apple is bad and you leave it there to rot,
it will eventually rot, right?
So let me rot.
Not like anyone cares.
I know I don't give a damn about what everyone else thinks about me.
I know I can live with whatever that I've done.
And if it means that I can have more fun, less restrictions,
since I'm already being labeled anyway,
why not?
It's not going to make any difference right?
Except that I actually did the deed that caused the label,
which makes the me worthy of that label.
Not that it wasn't there in the first place.

And so, my question is,
Why bother?

Don't give me that "you will be able to redeem yourself when they finally learn the truth" bullshit.
It doesn't work.
They've never stopped thinking of me like that.
I'm sorry I'm not this demure girl who sits with her legs neatly folded under the chair,
crown of my head shining against the sunlight,
sheepishly smiling with my head bowed down.
I am a modern-day woman.
A woman who has decided that if she is ever going to find a man,
the man must be worthy of her.
Not the other way around.
A woman who has decided that she will not let social stigma rule what she can and cannot achieve just because she is female.
So stop judging me!
It hurts to know that you of all people judge me for who I am NOT.