MiddleMan.

there's no one to tell this to (all the relevant parties have either passed me on or are simply not around), so i might as well share it with everyone else.

i am a bastard child of two mongolians. one of them was a prim and proper mongolian prince, the other was the daughter of a swineherd. i was born out of wedlock (if there even is such a thing in mongolia). after my biological mother decided to put me in a basket and float me down the River Mungamungakahn like an asian Moses, i was picked up and raised by a pack of wolves. i was fed wolfmilk everyday (which explains my size), and as a result, i have heightened senses and reflexes. you'd never guess, seeing how big i am, but really, i'm a killing machine. so back off, youse motherfuckers. i am a killer.

you guessed it. i'm adopted.

just kidding.

to be honest with you, i always thought that i was adopted. my mother used to slap me silly as a child, and the only thing that went through my head was that she was bopping me around because she didn't really love me due to me not really being her child. i don't know where i got these ideas from, but i remember that i confronted her with it one day and she has this look on her face...between bemusement and slight anguish. it must've come over pretty quickly. most of my tween years were spent coming to blows with my mother. not a very pretty sight. up til this day, there's still a bit of tension whenever we meet up.

my father was never really around. he was on frequent trips, doing his duty to King and Country. it's amazing to see how jaded he is now, especially since he was tirelessly dedicated to his job. he was the liberal one...in many ways, he still is, though age and wisdom have taught him not to trust his only begotten Son.

oh, well. times have changed. i'm now on better terms with my parents. at least i think i am.

tomorrow's going to be a bit of a test. my dad and i have to pick my mother up, and we're going to putrajaya to get our individual passports renewed. i have no idea what can happen on the car ride. it's 2 hours of possibilities. will each parent try to polarize me? will there be a chest of secrets unearthed? this is the first time that i would've been together with my parents since going to a starbucks three years ago to discuss divorce terms. funny, isn't it? now that all that business is done and over with, i'm hoping that we can at least be cordial as a quasi-family unit.

here's hoping that nobody blows their top tomorrow, including me.

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for fuck's sake, i wish you'd pretend to be cordial and at least say hello.

(maybe i'm just sensitive when it comes to you).