Rooster Year

First off, here's a Happy Lunar New Year
to all the people to actually come here to read this blog.
It's the year of the chick, so yeah..lets go get all the chicks :)

Went for my 'reunion lunch' with my Mum at Pan Pacific yesterday. I wasn't exactly looking forward to it; the last time I spoke to her, we'd been haggling over the maintainence my Dad had to pay her, and it hadn't been pleasant. That time, I was so disappointed and disillusioned by the stark contrast and the absurdity of my Dad, sitting at home in a sling, nursing broken bones and a bruised ego after having lost his job, and arguing with my Mum over $500 while she sits in total luxuary in a BMW 7-series that easily costs almost 3x the amount my Dad paid for his 3 room apartment. So upset I wanted to cry. But I'd shut my tears back and walked away. She'd called me after, telling me she didn't like the look I'd given her etc...Till now I still have so many things I feel strongly about regarding this divorce issue, but when I raise them she either scolds me, saying it isn't my place as her child to tell her what to do, or explains her reasons in a way that, while she verbally professes to be willing to shoulder the blame, seems to insinuate that she feels she is not at fault. I've long since arrived at the point where I can't really be bothered to tell her anything, ever since the time I went back to my old home at Jurong East, intending to use the toilet for 5 minutes, but spent a full half an hour weeping over the mere recollection of what I once had in my life that I couldn't expect any longer. And she complains I don't tell her anything. How to make her understand, when she is hardly receptive? When her mentality is 'I've gone through a lot too' above everything else, even above understanding her son. She probably things too much time with my Dad has poisoned me against her. That she'd lost me to him.

The lunch went by uneventfully though. We didn't have much time to talk anyway. Exchanged pleasantries, chatted the lunch away and generally spent the time catching up with my younger brother. I went to Sans to get 3 books, two of which I plan to return. Most of the shops were closed at that point anyway, and so I left for home. The next day was a relief as well. Mum didn't have the time to talk to me. I spent most of the time talking to my Uncle. The advice he dispensed was as brutal and unrelenting as life itself, no matter how softly he tried to put it across. To end it. To move on with life. It's so depressing, I could just lie down and stare at the ceiling, doing nothing.

Of course, I could move on.

But

Could I truly get over her?

Does a new year truly bode a new beginning?

Does everything have to be this painful????

Riding hard, fast, safely AND taking a few corners.