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Mother, I am not really searching for the absolution and we don’t should have it in your eyes definitely. Your eyes so filled with concern always; accusing constantly. The pressure you placed on me and the pain it caused was unbearable. All you did - I was informed by you - you had been doing for my very own good. Nevertheless, you never realized I was raised did you? It’s extremely hard, it’s just wrong you want to create all decisions for me personally: you start with the extracurricular lessons, through thoroughly selected well mannered close friends and actually the damn shoes! You are dominating me at all times like I was simply a puppet with no feelings and no knowledge. Ironically, I understand more that you’d ever imagine, mother. I understand you hated grandma. The envy in your eyes on every Boxing Day when she was included with a visit, betrayed you regardless of how hard you tried to cover it. I understand you hated how I adored her and how she cherished me - just how she never felt about you. Finally, I understand that father and you designed every phrase that was stated that night; that full night was the last strew. The hatred burning in your eyes, the obscene names shouted towards me, sickening disgust with myself and total misunderstanding from you - my omniscient mother. Why can’t you become more like Nan? Loving and sweet. You, mother are simply a cold, emotionless legal guardian. I believe, I have done you a huge favour, escaping your desperate greedy clutches of your matriarchy and freeing both folks. You don’t like me. You under no circumstances do You’re preaching how badly the alcohol and drugs make a difference you always. But pretending to be saint doesn’t work anymore, not on me, not on other people. Many situations I saw you past due having a drink, after midnight when you though that you could be seen by no one. You’re a hypocrite, mother..