This current residence of mine is the fourteenth stop in a race to the future and imminent destination of sanctuary. It was ten years ago when my mum made that decision to leave her home to come out in the world where she didn't know anything about. She made the choice because she had no choice. Back where she was from, there were many limitations to her living the fullest life. Ostensibly, this decision was not a wise one, as evident by my and K's current situation.
Anyway, the journey was sprung by the choices that my mum had made. In the beginning, as I was very young, and very naive about the world, the decision seemed sound. I laid my full trust onto her, in which she had abused it. The first house when we got here was a flat shared by many people. They were also in the same situation as us. Forward a few months ahead, my mum and aunt met a person who helped us rent his place in what is now considered the first reststop to the troubles.
Subsequent moves were made in parallel to our economic status. We were doing from poor to ok in the next few years. We moved three times in that short period of time from our little rented house to another one nearby to one that was in a better suburb to end in the current house, which sits in a good neighbourhood.
The happy ending didn't end from there. When my aunt got married to this douche bag, who was and is influential to her decision making, he took her away from us. He would usually treat my mum rudely, he would often neglect his duties in favour of his selfishness. In the coming months amongst the many that were prior to their marriage had led my mum to implode her anger on the couple. She bashed them verbally to release the anger that was cumulated for some time. The pair sent us packing in retaliation. As a result of this war, we had to move to other places, the number of moving houses added up to 13 eventually. Sometimes the moves were often back and forth between houses.
The last move was three years ago. K was the first person to move here in due to the douche bag and the oppressed was in need of a child carer. Their previous caretaker had to leave quickly, so there wasn't a proper gradual change. THe children, then, were very young. The douche bag and the oppressed by that time had reconciled with my mum. So they asked K to come help out for a few months until they found a replacement. This didnot, however, happen. They didn't find a replacement and wanted K to permanently remain as their helper. The sad thing was they made the replacement claim under false pretense when they didn't follow up with their words. K, until this day, is still angry about their lie.
Anyway, the move to here was made by my mum after the shop that she and my older brother co-owned was bought by the douche bag couple. As we weren't getting real income, we had to relocate to their house. The move proved to be a mistake, because in the ensuing three or four years, there was so much animosity within the confines of this house. After my mum had left us to another country, we had to endure the abuse by the couple. It is not done, of course, in the physical manner, but the emotional breakdowns were hard to bear. I had, for many years, enough of this farking prison cell, but yet here we still are. K was in the same boat from the beginning. She warned me prior to my relocation to here that we shouldn't come at all. I didn't know the consequences back then, told K that her worries would diminish once we came and shared some of the burdens. Apparently, this was one crucial mistake. We are made stuck here for some times more.
So what is the one thing that can save us? A piece of paper that tells us we are free. It is one crucial piece of parchment to free my and K's lives. It is this that we couldn't do anything to alleviate our situation to a new ground. It sucks, because waiting for this piece of papar is doing grave damages to my mindset. The sheer frustration is eating me alive, one tiny bite a day to prolong my slow death. That is the reason why my rants were often seen as monotonic in that I complain so much about the same farking damn thing. I don't have anything going on for me. The trouble which was caused by the person I once loved, is the basement source to all of my rants which branches to my other frustrations inside the house. Writing them down on here is one way to release some stress.
If I receive the "paper" in the immediate future, I will have to move again. This will be my fifteenth move. It will be that of a happy journey away from hell, and the one move that will define me for the next few years. I know for a fact that it won't be the last one, being that I still want to move to other countries. That will be the days I will be happy. Until then, I am still waiting.
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