Dear Journal,
Ever since Ma has come back from Benares, she has told the cooks to make such little food that I'm going hungry. For the past three days I've been barely eating anything. She lacks common sense. She doesn't care. She actually doesn't.
Now she's enrolled herself for Spanish classes. So she's busy with that. Before that she was always planning her other classes. If I wanted to talk to her, she said she didn't have time and that I don't do anything. What's to be done? She's said this so many times. She is so stupid.
She's a mother. A neglectful, unkind, vicious mother, who doesn't have time to speak, just shout and scream. She's not a friend. She never will be.
She gives herself airs of being some kind of superwoman, talks loudly to herself, and calls people stupid and idiotic, and bitches about them.
I can't tell her anything because she holds anything you tell her against you. She lacks wisdom. Clearly lacks it.
She is always blaming other people for her faults and drawbacks. She is so stupid. I hate her.
I have to understand her if I have to forgive her. Forgiving her is the most difficult thing I'll ever do. It's so tough to forgive someone who beat your brother and you up with cricket bats, hockey sticks, etc. When you were just a tender baby. A mother who never once bought a single toy or clothes for you. She doesn't care. She's far beyond that.
She's stingy, unkind, and thinks she's some kind of queen.
I must forgive her.
I have to.
Love,
Me.
I'm grateful for my life.
I'm grateful for my wisdom.
I'm grateful for my heart.
I'm grateful for my work.
I'm grateful for my parents.
I'm grateful that I have the desire to forgive.
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