A Chilled House

Yesterday, my family had a big fight.

My family always had fights before, and the temper usually flares with my mother first. Now yes, I know what you're thinking, what a biased thing to say right? How can it always be my mother's fault? I'm not sure about other families, but in mine, the boys (and there are 4 of us, my dad and three sons) are bulwarks of silent neutrality. Often it's my mum shouting at my housekeeper for incompetence, or (last time) my younger brother for lack of discipline and sometimes recently, my elder brother for machine-gun vulgarities. I would like to say that I haven't invoked her wrath before, but that isn't true. I'm guilty of saying some pretty hurtful things, usually in response to her wrath, which probably only incites it further. I'm no Jesus, my rebukes ain't going to cure no one's soul. It's usually me venting my frustration at her constant shouting (which is ironic) when I'm just trying to have some peace or sleep at home. This fight however, puts more pronounced blame on me.

A man came to install a new modem that would allow us to use the new optic-fibre network while I was playing Civ V. (And so was my brother) My mother is as usual pandering to guests like a true businesswoman. After he leaves, the usual call for tech support from none other than me is made.
For reasons not entirely known to me, I felt a deep inclination to let my dad and younger brother handle the wiring as my mother begged me to help them. Maybe I reached my breaking point of annoyance that my mom refuses to learn anything technical on the basis that she can't (this to me, is a huge cop-out/show of laziness) nor her acknowledgement that anyone other than me is able to fix anything with electricity in the house. I was vindicated in this whim when eventually, my father and younger brother hooked up the wires without my help. If you want to know what they did, it was basically, and I am not exaggerating, putting Ethernet cables into the ports in the modem. I REALLY cannot fathom how difficult this task is and in fact, whenever I do it, my father would decide to re-arrange the cables anyway to make it neater. My mother's so called technological helplessness irked me further.

Soon, begging became sarcastic remarks, shouting, nostril flaring and I made the mistake of doing the natural thing when my mom starts getting angry - I do my best to ignore her. It usually works because I am not the person the anger is directed at but in this case, it was. Also, may I refer you to the Big Bang Theory episode where Penny gets addicted to video games? It is a natural escape, including for domestic problems people don't want to deal with. My mom usually then calms down and normal relations resume. So yes, I was the un-filial son who ignored my family's non-existent need for my help. Worse, I decided to let myself go and spout a few vulgarities about PMS-ing. To say I regret doing so would be lying because unfortunately for me, I am endowed with a tendency for justice and to a degree, vengeance. Petty? Let's just say I would not stand by if I see someone get bullied as much as I would not stand by if I was the wrong-ed party. Later I would know through my father that my mother was having an existential angst that her kids were just going to ignore her pleas when they were older and more helpless.

Usually when such a breakdown happens and I am partially to blame, I would summon the courage to say I was sorry, out of pragmatism and humility. However, I knew very well in my heart that for this situation, apologizing would just feed my mother's vindication in her absolute correct-ness in everything. I know this because I have her genes. The problem is that I often disagree with what I believe is her flawed thinking.

So what am I left with?

Drama serials and children's shows would likely point me into the direction of guilt admission and apologies, followed by "I've learnt my lesson and will choose to be a dutiful and grateful son who forever repays his infinite debt to his all-loving parents." Fucking. Rubbish. The Asian stereotype and portrayal of parents is misunderstood, stern but loving tiger moms and dads who 'know best'. I am logically inclined to be grateful for what my parents have given me because my brain tells me so. Is it wrong though, that I don't feel it in my heart? Is it wrong that all I remember about my childhood are parents who have focused on giving me independence while (mom) shouting at my other brothers, or the maid, or me (back in the day)? I have sworn not to abandon my parents out of a sense of duty and honour rather than something I 'feel' I should do. In other words, if I didn't do it, I wouldn't feel sorry. At least for my mother.

Pride is the greatest sin.

I feel like I could go on. Or maybe I couldn't. I feel like the stereotypical hormonally charged teen (who is no longer a teen) who feels misunderstood by his/her parents. And how can I not really? When they don't know my girlfriend's name or that we broke up or that inside I feel pretty fucked up and that's probably why I listen to so much rock. (because pop is like synthesized happy bullshit)
Need to write some poetry again.