My family ain’t perfect so as the tie that bonds us together. We never had chance to have fun as a whole. We all have our ways, own lives, and own point of views where mine is the greatest—but, I guess they feel the same thing with there’s.
The only typical about us is that we argue and we are all silly. While we, siblings are all likened to cats and dog, our parents then are the lion and the tiger. We argue, argue, and argue. It feels weird not to.
We live in a house which was never a home.
When I was younger one of my hopes in life was to own a house with doors since the old one only got three—the one in front, the other at back, then the third for the comfort room—all the rest has curtains instead. I now realized that house made of bamboos and woods having only three doors are far better than our present where we got doors all over the place. Here, we learned how to bang all them whenever we wanted, our simple way of communication. So sweet, isn’t it?
I’m pretty sure our parents did not teach us to bang the doors. They trained us in a way wherein we walk inside our house very slowly not to make any sound. That’s how strict they’ve been to us. I don’t know what happen then. Maybe it’s our nature to act that way.
Our main problem is communication. We never compromise. Hopeless.
In a way, those doors are of help for it made us feel we’re not home alone by ourselves.