Freedom

Did I already write a post about this? If I did, it probably concerned badminton smashing or trying to get away from some certain eating habits. Maybe about my physics grade. Let's have another go today...

A song to play with fake guitars and off-pitch voices: Freedom is Free.
Except its not. It's actually really expensive with soldiers and life and all those quite valuable things, in addition to a nice 14 trillion something dollar debt which I guess is partly health care's fault. WHICH IS WHY WE SHOULD ALL VOTE OBAMA RIGHT. Vote for him. He's in for the long run, not to make people happy. More on that later. maybe.

My point was supposed to be that the weekend is finally over. For the past year, weekends  have become less and less appealing. Saturdays are full of being in the same house as my family and a temporary release in badminton. Sunday is a lot of driving around with my dad to go to church, drawing, and badminton. Both days are encompassed by set meal times and apportioned bowls of Chinese food that I'm sick of. Even when we have sandwiches or baozi (who's with me here.... I love baozi so much. dat spiced meat) the table is awkward. I'm constantly on alert for nagging about SATs, some shallow complaints about something stupid like SATs, some atrocious manners from the male side, or even my own sickness of everything taking over my body. the usual. you know.

For five mornings and 3 afternoons I will have the house to myself. I can eat whenever and whatever. I can run as long as I want to and go wherever I can. I won't even touch my SATs and watch America's Next Top Model because I actually think it's interesting. I'll do my stats project because I want to, not because someone told me I have to do it to prove my worth. I'll waste time and talk to people and live contrary to the lies China put in my parents' heads. I'm done with that.

I don't want to have to win when I'm no good in the first place.

Today a dear friend (just kidding. he's ok) told me that I'm not that good. It was genuine, but not an accusation. There was no hint that I should be better, but a simple statement. I'm not that good, but I'm enough. It doesn't matter. I'm still a person, a friend, a whatever. a correspondent in a relationship, if you want (not the love kind. gross no.) Yeah. This is the community I belong to. Christ's.