I think I need to make a post real quick, just to vent some bitterness. Linds, I would be telling you all this, however we have since been restricted, so I'm going to do it here in hopes that you read it.
I am sick of your parents. In fact, I am so sick that I may kill them. Of course, that was sarcasm, but again, it was very bitter, so it might have sounded like me trying to make fantasy reality, and I'm sorry if it did. But seriously, they make me so sick I can taste it.
I am tired of being talked about by them as if I can't fucking hear what they're saying. It makes me sick. I get so angry being talked about as if I don't even exist, yet sitting right there. And at the same time, they act as if I'm a bit of shit stuck on the bottom of their shoe that they're just trying to rub off.
Moreover, and what makes me more angry than anything, is the way they treat you. Let's consider this: how long you were on the phone with me last night. Three hours, twenty minutes, two days, does it really make a difference? There is nothing else going on anyway, is there? If you weren't on the phone with me, did they ever ask themselves what the hell else you'd be doing? At least through this you're getting a bit of social interaction, even if it's from some shit on their shoes. They are so concerned with how much time is spent doing something that they really don't care to look at it much more than from their own perspective. THIS IS THE HUMAN CONDITION PEOPLE. INDULGE THE BEAST AWHILE, IT'S OK TO BE ALIVE AND TALK TO THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. I promise it is. I also promise that the more you push, the more the thing you're pushing against will push back. It's fucking emotional physics, and it doesn't take a doctorate to be a master in it.
Let me stop the rant for a moment and tell you that I'm sorry if I'm offending you in some way in this post, Linds, I DEFINITELY did not mean to if I did. This is strictly against those wonderful parentals and their little war (which, sad to say, I am probably fueling by this post, but I'm not sure even ignorance would help it). I suppose that offense could be translated out of it, so I hope you understand my intentions in this post. I'm just really upset.
It should be known that I'm not their biggest fucking fans either. I have at least half a brain to know when the fuck I'm getting spit on. If they even for one second thought they were being clever with their little subterfuges, they've got another thing coming. As well, their justifications of their actions are complete shit. Really, take a fucking look around. There isn't a fucking thing they can do at this point. All control that they had is lost, in the grand scheme of things.
That makes me mad, too: justify, justify, justify, we are never wrong, we have the money and clout and years to tell you off, to make you feel like shit, and to fucking know it. They can't for one second fucking tell me that they don't know what the hell they're doing. They will deny it of course, and their black little secret hearts will titter with delight, "That's another one-up for me, I'm the adult, I won't be reckoned with! The childish battle rages onward, HO!" FUCK THAT. I'm not going to make any "one more time and I'll" threats because I won't, but let it be known that I will not stand for it, that life is a great circle and a living well, and what you put in will certainly come back to get you, if not in this life then in the next.
I don't feel any better, and I guess that's what they aim for all the time. We're puppets, Linds. They make it their goal to make us grovel, I think. I can't feel better til I bend to the will.
If I come over today, we'll most certainly be over for a while. I believe they're about ready to make a scene of it (though so am I, and I've been known not to win battles but to leave those deep-setting scars that win the war). I don't know. Maybe I'm just frusterated (there's no maybe about it). I'm sick at the heart with all the nonsense around this. Leave well enough alone, how about, eh? Perhaps stop preaching the wonders of perspective and learn from your own lessons. It's one thing to talk, it's another thing to listen. Happiness doesn't always coincide with one's wishes. Savor that for a while. Though I'm a reprehensible, broke, and afflicted child, so where's the worth in my words?
I am sick of your parents. In fact, I am so sick that I may kill them. Of course, that was sarcasm, but again, it was very bitter, so it might have sounded like me trying to make fantasy reality, and I'm sorry if it did. But seriously, they make me so sick I can taste it.
I am tired of being talked about by them as if I can't fucking hear what they're saying. It makes me sick. I get so angry being talked about as if I don't even exist, yet sitting right there. And at the same time, they act as if I'm a bit of shit stuck on the bottom of their shoe that they're just trying to rub off.
Moreover, and what makes me more angry than anything, is the way they treat you. Let's consider this: how long you were on the phone with me last night. Three hours, twenty minutes, two days, does it really make a difference? There is nothing else going on anyway, is there? If you weren't on the phone with me, did they ever ask themselves what the hell else you'd be doing? At least through this you're getting a bit of social interaction, even if it's from some shit on their shoes. They are so concerned with how much time is spent doing something that they really don't care to look at it much more than from their own perspective. THIS IS THE HUMAN CONDITION PEOPLE. INDULGE THE BEAST AWHILE, IT'S OK TO BE ALIVE AND TALK TO THE PEOPLE YOU LOVE. I promise it is. I also promise that the more you push, the more the thing you're pushing against will push back. It's fucking emotional physics, and it doesn't take a doctorate to be a master in it.
Let me stop the rant for a moment and tell you that I'm sorry if I'm offending you in some way in this post, Linds, I DEFINITELY did not mean to if I did. This is strictly against those wonderful parentals and their little war (which, sad to say, I am probably fueling by this post, but I'm not sure even ignorance would help it). I suppose that offense could be translated out of it, so I hope you understand my intentions in this post. I'm just really upset.
It should be known that I'm not their biggest fucking fans either. I have at least half a brain to know when the fuck I'm getting spit on. If they even for one second thought they were being clever with their little subterfuges, they've got another thing coming. As well, their justifications of their actions are complete shit. Really, take a fucking look around. There isn't a fucking thing they can do at this point. All control that they had is lost, in the grand scheme of things.
That makes me mad, too: justify, justify, justify, we are never wrong, we have the money and clout and years to tell you off, to make you feel like shit, and to fucking know it. They can't for one second fucking tell me that they don't know what the hell they're doing. They will deny it of course, and their black little secret hearts will titter with delight, "That's another one-up for me, I'm the adult, I won't be reckoned with! The childish battle rages onward, HO!" FUCK THAT. I'm not going to make any "one more time and I'll" threats because I won't, but let it be known that I will not stand for it, that life is a great circle and a living well, and what you put in will certainly come back to get you, if not in this life then in the next.
I don't feel any better, and I guess that's what they aim for all the time. We're puppets, Linds. They make it their goal to make us grovel, I think. I can't feel better til I bend to the will.
If I come over today, we'll most certainly be over for a while. I believe they're about ready to make a scene of it (though so am I, and I've been known not to win battles but to leave those deep-setting scars that win the war). I don't know. Maybe I'm just frusterated (there's no maybe about it). I'm sick at the heart with all the nonsense around this. Leave well enough alone, how about, eh? Perhaps stop preaching the wonders of perspective and learn from your own lessons. It's one thing to talk, it's another thing to listen. Happiness doesn't always coincide with one's wishes. Savor that for a while. Though I'm a reprehensible, broke, and afflicted child, so where's the worth in my words?
