The Oppression Diaries

I used to be a guidance counselor, did you know that? Funny that I would end up 6 years later in 3, not 1, cuckoo’s nest after all those years of counseling kids and teenagers on how to find themselves or to “self-actualize.” I really got nothing much to say about that except, instead of having an active lifestyle like before, I now have unending chores that I could not seem to fulfill for days on end. Oh, it’s definitely not depression. I am much too “self-aware” for that, bragging aside. I always wake up early in the morning thinking and feeling like I could do anything I want, finally get to fulfill all my long-delayed chores, and even have time to spare for my hobbies. But, all of a sudden, heaviness sets in and I end up sleeping throughout the day. Just now, a perp (perpetrator) living next door to me at an adjacent room, came out (or just opened her door) and said something like “take a bath” (in the vernacular) just loud enough for me to hear, like talking ...

I would suddenly find my snails FLOATING the next morning, LIFELESS or STIFF and BARELY BREATHING even though they were all alive and well (after checking on them) before I went to bed the night before. The large breaks couldn’t be due to a long fall as their tubs (1-gallon Tony Roma’s popcorn tubs) weren’t that high; they were eating vegetables that were carefully washed (as per instruction from credible online sources) to rid them of pesticides, and which they had been eating, if I remember correctly, for three (3) months without incident; and the SUDDEN DEEP ABRASIONS that seemed to happen overnight couldn’t possibly be caused by tap water which had been aerated long enough, and placed with eggshells for calcium. The first few that died I can probably acknowledge as a result of ignorance, but the succeeding rapid deaths (in batches) of the week-old or month-old babies, and the disappearing hatchlings were just too much. The usual alibis (as if they are even legally jus...

I have been breeding freshwater snails for quite some time now. I started last year around August and I fell in love with the critters. They have this vulnerable look about them that I rarely see nowadays. They were initially meant for market consumption after I lost my job five (5) years ago due to the BLOODSUCKERS around me. Despite myself, I found these beady-eyed, half-armadillo, half-cow looking “sliders” too adorable to eat anymore. I was having a dilemma back then until I figured that I would breed them both for consumption and for ornamental purposes too. But as usual, the NIGGERS of Mount Doom, had to come crawling back with more vengeance, as if SCREWING MY JOB and FINANCES weren’t ABUSIVE and DEPLORABLE ENOUGH. They started by killing my market-bought wild snails, with the help of an inside job. The snails were suddenly dying one after another despite better, if not optimal, water conditions (thinned overnight or for 24 hours and changed almost everyday as...

The No Talk Policy You must be wondering what it was like for me to live amongst highly abnormal and mentally deranged, paranoid, money-craved psychopaths and chauvinists for seventeen (17) years. Actually, rumor has it that this has gone longer than that, to the extent that even my whole family was influenced and manipulated without their knowledge. The marriage of my first and third eldest sisters for instance, was according to a robin who loves to perch on my shoulder and just tweet about almost anything related to these scheming niggers, were secretly pre-arranged. Although it looked like a normal courtship that ensued after the eldest was introduced to my brother-in-law, and the third eldest met her husband in the company where she worked, both had already been planned and contrived prior to my father’s ailing condition. In fact both marriages were all too sudden, almost immediately right after my father’s death, that many an eyebrow was raised and rumors spread a...