Of Venters and Ventees; Venting and ironically keeping it in and the fcking virtue that is fcking patience

Hello lads and lasses and whatever that's inbetween. I've decided to be more and more British with the intention of getting myself less and less attached to this country. I don't know how this endeavour may end up I might even get all bitchy and ignore all British slangs and go Americano and even a little francophone and straight up pissed off as shit. So bear with me online comrades. So venting should be accompanied with dramatic music simply because it'll actually help me temporarily escape this raging hell hole of a time I'm having. Perhaps it might just lift my spirits a little to know I was somewhere else for a moment. Being here; i.e. reality isn't so awesome. I'd rather be elsewhere and vent there and leave the venting over there and come back here with less things to stress and whine about. I've started thinking of writing more with whatever mood that's overpowering me at the moment and squeeze every bit of emotion and feel out of me till I'm dry with emotion. Oh how I wish it was all that easy. A ventee is really someone who (usually) loves you a real lot who's willingly taking the shit you're throwing at them. Yeah, those people exist and for me, they're my friends. My parents aren't ventees and would probably tell me I wasn't being very well behaved and above all very rude and immature. I've learnt to shy away completely from venting to them, I'm sure they love me but couldn't really care about the problem and especially the way I was venting would render them emotionally unattached followed by beginning to analyse everything and sometimes; yes it's my fault that I'm angry. But don't they think I might already know that? I always thought parents were really meant to support you and the truth was inapplicable if you were at fault. Mine don't see it that way all the time. Well, I've learnt to keep it in around my family members, we're quite uptight. British influenced upbringing I'm afraid, plus with the traditional Malay rules on parent- child relationships our rights to liberal speech has been rendered to 'no talking back, no explanations, no retorts and sit politely and do as I say' so basically, no saying 'no' without valid reason, whatever that may be. Now, of course, I don't exactly abide by these rules on how to behave. And that is why I get it for not keeping it in and letting my insides burn with my own anger. So, now I just shut up and wait till I see my friends or my blog or just blast every song with guitar riffs as loudly as I can, to make it a technically silent protest. Nothing is being said by me, but it's through song. Through beautiful riffs and wonderful rhymes of angsty teenage spirit, accompanied by a slew of profanities. Lovely. So basically, I don't know how or why I said turning British would help, but I would like to say sorry I didn't throw much profanities around. Really trying to manage the crap I'm being thrown with. It's all just too fucking much sometimes and I want to curse everything and really just run away far. But alas, I lack the funding. Sucks for all of us escapists. Most of my ventees are far away and I can't hug them or be near them or cry to them. Sometimes, people without prior knowledge of you might be the most fair judges. I used to have that and then she moved away. Sad. I don't like crying, I'm sure no one does, but I suppose you can't write it all out. Some are just best cried out and not remembered in writing. I've started (once more) with an old writing project of mine and kind of giving it my all this time. With any luck and actual talent I think and hope I possess I'll get somewhere and get enough funding for my desired and ideal education. So technically we're all a little bit of each. Ventees, venters, and sometimes, we do keep it in. All I can say now is I want to be near my ventees and away from whenever I am now. Not really comfortable admitting where I'm getting all these angst. So whatever then bye bye all x