Communication is a two-way thing. No way can it be called an argument if one side is dictating the stand and the other just agreeing. This would simply be called, 'sharing an idea'. However, if one disagrees with the other, one could simply come up with an opposing view or opinion. Theres usually no right or wrong answers, just how different people see things.

Sometimes I would prefer to believe that the Earth is a cube, so that we wouldn't be living in this Circular argument, and theres more than one side to things. (if you don't get the pun here, i'm sorry) Unfortunately, more often than not, the iron walls are erected so high in front of us, we only see the one side. Along with our pride and beliefs, we believe that whatever we say is all that is to an issue. Lets face it, everyone is different, in their thoughts and beliefs. Thats when you generate different arguments.

Adults find it harder to pull down their pride, because for as long as they live, they see that one side and nothing else. It is so much harder for them to tear down those walls, or at least believe that behind that wall, there are so much more possibilities and that what he/she has been challenging for years stands clear in front of their eyes. Parents especially, will not tear down their walls. Even if they do see it, they will simply push it away with their authority. That, we're just not being good enough.

I workout now, whenever I feel that I cannot contain the immense energy inside of me to want to scream or start punching my walls. For as long as live, they have been trying to forge an image of them being parents whom we can communicate with, talk to or share our troubles. Its just like Mao's thousand flowers campaign. She tells us,' i'm open to ideas and opinions, tell me your thoughts'. Years after years, tears after tears, we've been trying so hard to let her see the other sides, but it always turn out to be another tearshed battle. Her innate sacarsm and venom stains every word she says, including her apologies. The sacarsm so thick it could strangle us both.

My friends, my brother and myself, tell me, just keep quiet and let her talk. Thing is, i hold in my hands that little hope. Like a little girl hoping that her mummy finally gives her a bag of macdonalds and tell her to enjoy it, not how many cancerous cells it will give me or how sick i am going to get after consuming that sinful indulgence. That hope is often thrashed, time after time. Each time that girl tries, but even when she gets that Happy meal, she wonders, if that meal will be happy afterall.

I should really start reminding myself that it is not going to happen. Wake up my dear, face it, it would have happened if it were to, more than 10 years ago. Or even, right before I was born. Because I'm pretty sure my brother did go more than me, and I guessed never did change anything.

Today I tried again, and today, 23rd June 2010, I will remember this failure. Lets not make it happen again.