Today I turned 19. That’s right, today is my birthday. Why am I here? The party is outside my living room. Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t know. But what I do know is that my family doesn’t understand me. I've always been the different one in the family. I don’t follow the ethnic or family traditions. I am different.

I’m often identified as lost by everyone I know. Just because I’m exploring my options doesn’t mean I’m lost. It’s like my coffee mug states: Not all who wander are lost. I want to be encouraged to do that. I want my parents to tell me you’ve got time because, it’s true, I have all the time in the world. My parents always pressure me about time running out-- that I better look for something quick-- any job -- any career. But what the fuck kind of life is that? If there is ONE thing I’ve learned in my 19 years, it’s that: growing up poor fucking sucks. Like yeah, you grow up, you understand the value of money, and you realize your fears way too quickly. But, by observing them and my older siblings, I have concluded that people never get what they want because they’re too focused on what they don’t want.

Fear is something so stupid, so unnecessary, yet inevitable. I don’t want to be scared. I don’t want to grow up. I don’t want to learn more about the world because the world is ugly. The bad people overweigh the good by far too much. A couple years ago, we got robbed because we were an easy target, financially. Yeah, someone literally broke into our house while we were sleeping. And because of that, I now sleep with a pocket knife lodged into the side of my bed.

I’ve learned how to kill. I’ve learned how to fight. I’ve learned how to scrape money. I’ve learned how to survive. I am strong because I am weak. I’m blunt because lying is nasty thing. I tell the truth because someone has to.

My family is in the living room laughing and having a good time. But why can’t I? They know how cruel the world can be. Have I been exposed to the world more than them? Or are they playing the parents in the sinking ship? Ok so let me explain this theory I’ve developed through a tv show scene. There’s a ship sinking further and further down the ocean, and there’s a family stuck in a room. The parents decide to play a game, for the sake of the kids. The parents accepted that they will all die, so they keep the kids calm with the game and make their final memories fearless. The ship is our life. The ocean is the world. Am I sinking?

When you grow up this disadvantaged, you are this pessimistic. If you were in my position, and came out happier, I envy you. I’m not happy because I know I can never be. People will always want what you have. For example, people like you create a competition-- “who can make the best sob story.” To be clear, I hate people like you. I prefer collaboration rather than competition. I do everything on my own more efficiently and there’s a lot less to carry, but I want unity. Maybe the next humanity will get it right.

Don’t get me wrong. Contradictions after contradictions. I choose to be alone because I’m afraid to lose people. Maybe one day I’ll be prepared for commitment. I’ve lost too many, for such a short life. Is this why I want to become a surgeon? I’ve always had a thing for human anatomy, but now that I think about it. I want to help people because the best way to solve your problems is to help someone else’s. And believe me when I say this.

I will die trying to save this ugly fucking world, even if it’s just one life at a time.

Weekly Journal Entry 177. April 22, 2017.

Happy Birthday Eli.