Perhaps choosing to write these blog posts on a Sunday wasn't the smartest idea on my part. For one it's the end of the week and my energy is at an all time low, for the other if I go out on the saturday (well I hardly ever go out because social anxiety and scary parents) I lose all higher brain function and literally cannot type anything for the life of me, I'm typing this post on 2 and a half hours currently and it shows if I'm honest. 

I had two things I was going to talk about today, one was about this game of deception I play with my parents where I've basically lied to them for about 4 years about a certain area of my life and how one day it'll all come crashing down and I'll literally get sent to a homework camp somewhere in inner mongolia. The other one was talking about how to achieve goals but to be honest the childhood tragedy story is funner so I'll run with it. 

Basically, I hide my social life from my parents. I mean every kid does that but with small fibs like the occasional "Oh I'm just meeting Brutus but you're meeting some girl you've been chatting up" I don't think I've actually done what I've told my parents I'm doing for the last few months/years. Yesterday, the official story was that I was celebrating a friend's birthday by going to some outdoor obstacle course then going back to his with a few guys for a movie and chicken fajitas before staying over. What I actually did was go to the library to do homework, meet a friend for coffee, hit the gym then meet my friends to go to another mate's party before staying over at her house because my friend was way too broken to make it back to his. The same story follows for just about every weekend I go out, to be fair I only really go out every month or so because it's just such an effort to create a story and keep by it, mum even objects to me meeting my friends to watch a film too often, how terrified would she be if she knew the truth. 

See I think part of her knows that I'm fibbing. She texted me asking how to obstacle course was, I said "pretty good" and the reply was: "You sure? Send me a picture of it". I genuinely shat myself at that point but quick thinking saved me, I grabbed a picture off Tripadvisor and cropped it so it looked like I took it. Perhaps she knows something is up but just doesn't want to admit it to herself, or perhaps she can't. With both parents being brought up Chinese they really didn't get into alcohol and parties and non same sex interactions. Even having lived here for a dozen or so years they don't really consort with the white folk but rather forming Asian communities, I think they're just oblivious to teenage revelry. My mother one day said in shock that she had heard about 18-year-olds consuming straight vodka and was thoroughly confused and surprised and I quickly consoled her and told her I would never partake in such behavior before going out that night and destroying my liver with the russian water. 

This hiding of some of my life sort of translates into other parts of my life, I am loathe to show my parents my english essays, they know nothing of either blog and I don't even like them knowing what kind of books I read. 

Last week I sent an email to someone asking about a volunteering opportunity, mother asked to see it and I edited before sending it to her because I thought it was a little to risqe for her to see. I applied for a job and never told her. It's weird I just feel like I'm keeping part of myself secret from my parents.

Now I'll probably need to address this someday, hopefully when I'm older so they can't beat my ass and stop giving me pocket money but until then I'll be doing my white teenage boy things illicitly.

 

Published by Kevin Li