I have not shouted at my father since like ......... primary school or, was it lower secondary.. but I did last night. I remember that he had used a cane to chase me all the way out of the living room into the public corridor in front of all my friends. That was the first time that he actually used a cane to beat the hell out of me in my younger days. Of cos, I was a typical hot-bloodied teenager. I never dare to really raise my voice at him eversince. Last night was a lot of shouting and verbal abuse over a very very trivial matter but I just lost it. I bet even people from the void deck could hear me, and I'm living on the 12th floor.

I spent the next two hours cleaning my working table - nevermind the details. I could only get a grip of myself after I realised that my father has really aged... Had it been 20 years ago, he would have gave me two or maybe three or more tight slaps across my face for even dare to talk back at him - last night he didnt. All he said was " If no one is hurt, will you just stop all the shouting and we all need to get some sleep!" "And dont try to talk to your father and mother like that!" I could almost feel my blood boil but I held myself back at that instant. I decided that I should not continue to argue because it wasnt getting anywhere. It suddenly occurred to me that maybe I really need to just cool myself down. And keep quiet.

I could have sticked to my principle and ignore him this morning when I woke up thinking that "it wasnt my fault that I blew my top and had you not done what you did, I wouldnt be so mad!" but i didnt. Because He is afterall someone I respect very much and usually every weekend mornings he will always get me my favourite fishball noodles from the market and today, I still see my favourite fishball noodles on the table. Maybe mum bought it, who knows? But, I ate it.

Sometimes it really doesnt matter who is right or who is wrong - what matters is where you want go from here.