Dear 99,

Its been 23 years now since you helped bring me to this world, and I only have utmost respect and gratitude for that. And that is about it.
Seeing as your a professional mind reader, I should give you the benefit of the doubt when it comes to how you chose to raise me. I bet most daughter's do at some point. But by now we both know that I am no where close to what 'most daughters' are, and I certainly do not conform to their actions, weather I agree or disagree to them.

I never really took the time to write anything to you that held any emotion before. I'm not even really sure why. Part of me thinks it's because I learnt earlier on that you are incapable of expressing any form of 'love' for anybody, even yourself; while the other half of me thinks it's because I never really cared enough to 'let you have it' so to speak.

23 years have come and gone, and for some odd reason I feel I am compelled to calling you off your highly perched stool to tell you a little about yourself no one has ever dared to. Just as you feel like it is in your every duty to call me out, I feel as a daughter I am obligated to correcting your poorly matured personality for the sake of you having people at your funeral.

Yes, I know you can sit there and say you don't care, you have every right to pull that childish defence tactic: 'sticks and stones may hurt my bones, but words will never break me'. Heads up, this message is in no way meant to 'break' you in any form. Yet, if there is one thing all human beings must learn to ultimately accept, its that words are the most powerful weapon on this earth. So please, read on carefully.

Your need to be 'in control' of everything and everybody around you is so unbecoming and beneath you. Sure, you exude calmness and self-ease, but behind closed doors, you cannot really hide your real self from the people you live with at home. I'm not quite sure if it's just because you see that life is beginning to pass you by as the universe continues to push you along into the 'old people' bracket; or if it's because as a child you never were in control of anything, but whatever it is, I will not put up with it anymore.

Years living under your roof has taught me how to be annoyingly tranquil when it comes to dealing with personalities such as yourself. You see all, know all, and hear nothing but the sound of your own voice. Should the outside world throw you a curve ball, oh hell, you'll just go home and take it out on them!

Can you surely deny the many days in the when your favourite past time was picking quarrels with me? As a behavioural scientist, could you please explain to me exactly what that was all about? Even if you try to be as objective as you can, I'm sure there is no valid explanation beyond the fact that you have unresolved 'daddy issues'.

Let me jog your memory a bit to the days when you enjoyed picking other people's personalities to pieces, cornering them with self doubt and insecurity. What kind of person is able to uphold a fight with someone thirty years their junior and be beaten at it? Don't you not think that it is high time you took your pen and paper and gave yourself an evaluation? Heck, you're even lucky to have me in your life. Give me a couple years to get that doctorate, I'll gladly take you through it- F R E E OF CHARGE!

Go ahead and try to deny the fact that you are the kind of person who always has to point the finger at somebody else. I find it so hilarious that you should be so good at it. In fact, you are so expertly good that you forgot what you told me about finger pointing: remember that there are always four other fingers pointing back at you. I may sound like a spoilt child in a fit of rage aiming back at her father, but dude, it's high time you heeded to your own advice for once.

You amaze me with the way your whole entire life has evolved into one huge contradiction. I may not be as wise as the your past, but I am your ticket into a comfortable future and there will come a time when you will have to trust your entire well-being in my 'irresponsible' hands. Weather or not you like it.

If there is one thing I can promise you; its that I will give you what you deserve. Nothing more and definitely nothing less. You can have all the material comfort in the world, but at no one period in whats left of your miserable life will you have spiritual and emotional peace.

This promise I keep glowing in my heart is what gives me serenity at times like these. Times when I just want take that baseball bat you so trustingly keep besides your bed at night and use it as a sledge hammer to smash your head right into your pillow. Times when I want to mix up a dose of something lethal and slip it in your dinner while you stare at me like I was the worst thing that happened to you in your life. The truth of the matter is I just want you out of my way, but the promise I hold in my heart keeps me from doing any of this. The promise in my heart holds so much more satisfaction of watching you suffer at my will. The promise I will eventually turn into a reality will take me another couple of years until the day I will implement it; revengefully getting back at you for all the wrong you inflicted on me.

So, for now publicly ridiculing you on a personal blog will have to do. It seems to be the best remedy for my anger these past few years. I don't really care if you come across it or not, I'm sure others have read and internalized previous posts before. Nothing seems to stop these words of mine, clearly nothing ever will. I'm just sorry that the rest of the world now sees behind that phoney act to what you really look like. I could almost feel guilty...or NOT!