V for Vindictive
I'm a nice guy..or so i think. But cross me and i'm evil....i'm sooo fucking pissed. And sick of it...all of it. I can't take it anymore. This whole fucking marriage ceremony is a fucking sham. The more and more things happen the more and more i don't even wanna show up to the fucking thing. I'm sick on not being heard.
Maybe it's just me...but i beleive in a world of fucking rules. Especially when other people i don't know and don't trust live in my fucking house. Somehow, i don't remember how it came about, Sam came to be living in our house. Oh yeah...it's cause Amanda's dad got us in the precarious situation of having to rely on Sam to fix our fucking wall. He told us when we bought the house that the walls were ok, found out they weren't, told us he'd fix it...and then proceeeded to do nothing. So being the desperate people we were somehow Sam got conned into doing the wall. Now...i do feel bad and i do feel grateful...but being in Kuwait a million fucking miles away i thought that he was doing what any brother would do...helping his sister who was in a precarious position out of the goodness of his heart. But obviously i was wrong because ever since then i'm constantly reminded of how he fucking saved our ass. But the thing is i would never have okayed the deal if i would have known that. I don't like people who make rules after the fact. So somehow i got convinced that if we let sam stay in our house for a little while he would save up a little to get his own house (apparently he was psyched about doing houses after doing ours). So i thought okay that's how i was gonna show my gratification. But then it turned into he was gonna go to school. That was okay too...he helped us so no problem right...and he was doing something for his own good. I guess i thought it might be alright if he did that...as im a VERY private person and our house was gonna be very small and i knew that it would be hard to have to live with anyone other than amanda.
Then i get home....was dreaming of doing stuff to my house and showing some creativity and such in designing the motherfucker. But every time i wanna do something or come up with an idea for something i'm constantly challenged by somebody. Got the feeling they thought it was their house. Hmm...i seem to remember paying like thousands and thousands of fucking dollars out of my pay from the sacrifices i made going off to war for my fucking country. But for someone that has no concept of money that's hard to understand.
So it was a constant fight while getting the house ready to live in. Constant misery...but tucking my tail in because i love my wife and we told her brother we were gonna let him live here. So i tucked my manhoood in between my legs and went through with it. Shut my mouth....closed my fists....and said nothign.
See...nobody will even understand why the fuck i'm even posting this. I hate confrontation. I guess it's just the way i was emotionally abused when i grew up. I mean...i don't try to blame all of my problems on shit that happened when i grew up...but i do recognize where the fears i have come from. Not being listened to....fearing your dad...being ridiculed and put down. All that kinda makes it difficult to be completely open with someone if you have a problem.
Every two weeks we fight...
When he first moved in he demanded all kinds of money from us because he said we owed him sooo much for saving our asses and helping us out and we originally weren't gonna make him pay for rent because of that...but he was unemployed and wanted money to go out to the bar with...so he said he'd pay rent. Came up with the agreement ot pay out 100 a month. But then whenever the time comes to pay rent...he doesn't have the money...or he says why should he pay cause he did this or that....it's the only thing he can say to wiggle the fuck out of it. And i scream and yell because if he's gonna live here he's gonna hold up his end of the bargain. Otherwise that money he took when he first moved in...well i consider that stealing. But then we all think everything is good and it comes down to him getting his check every two weeks and then i find out that Amanda backs down....cuts him all kinds of slack and lets him wiggle out of what he agrees to. I'm siiick of it. She says i hate him....i don't hate him. I'm indifferent. I think he's a very irresponsible person, and i don't like the people he hangs around. I don't like his lifestyle and i have nothing in common with him...but i don't hate him. I hate the problem that we have that doesn't seem to go away.
And we're getting married here in a month. What a fucking joke!!!!
Maybe it's just me...but i beleive in a world of fucking rules. Especially when other people i don't know and don't trust live in my fucking house. Somehow, i don't remember how it came about, Sam came to be living in our house. Oh yeah...it's cause Amanda's dad got us in the precarious situation of having to rely on Sam to fix our fucking wall. He told us when we bought the house that the walls were ok, found out they weren't, told us he'd fix it...and then proceeeded to do nothing. So being the desperate people we were somehow Sam got conned into doing the wall. Now...i do feel bad and i do feel grateful...but being in Kuwait a million fucking miles away i thought that he was doing what any brother would do...helping his sister who was in a precarious position out of the goodness of his heart. But obviously i was wrong because ever since then i'm constantly reminded of how he fucking saved our ass. But the thing is i would never have okayed the deal if i would have known that. I don't like people who make rules after the fact. So somehow i got convinced that if we let sam stay in our house for a little while he would save up a little to get his own house (apparently he was psyched about doing houses after doing ours). So i thought okay that's how i was gonna show my gratification. But then it turned into he was gonna go to school. That was okay too...he helped us so no problem right...and he was doing something for his own good. I guess i thought it might be alright if he did that...as im a VERY private person and our house was gonna be very small and i knew that it would be hard to have to live with anyone other than amanda.
Then i get home....was dreaming of doing stuff to my house and showing some creativity and such in designing the motherfucker. But every time i wanna do something or come up with an idea for something i'm constantly challenged by somebody. Got the feeling they thought it was their house. Hmm...i seem to remember paying like thousands and thousands of fucking dollars out of my pay from the sacrifices i made going off to war for my fucking country. But for someone that has no concept of money that's hard to understand.
So it was a constant fight while getting the house ready to live in. Constant misery...but tucking my tail in because i love my wife and we told her brother we were gonna let him live here. So i tucked my manhoood in between my legs and went through with it. Shut my mouth....closed my fists....and said nothign.
See...nobody will even understand why the fuck i'm even posting this. I hate confrontation. I guess it's just the way i was emotionally abused when i grew up. I mean...i don't try to blame all of my problems on shit that happened when i grew up...but i do recognize where the fears i have come from. Not being listened to....fearing your dad...being ridiculed and put down. All that kinda makes it difficult to be completely open with someone if you have a problem.
Every two weeks we fight...
When he first moved in he demanded all kinds of money from us because he said we owed him sooo much for saving our asses and helping us out and we originally weren't gonna make him pay for rent because of that...but he was unemployed and wanted money to go out to the bar with...so he said he'd pay rent. Came up with the agreement ot pay out 100 a month. But then whenever the time comes to pay rent...he doesn't have the money...or he says why should he pay cause he did this or that....it's the only thing he can say to wiggle the fuck out of it. And i scream and yell because if he's gonna live here he's gonna hold up his end of the bargain. Otherwise that money he took when he first moved in...well i consider that stealing. But then we all think everything is good and it comes down to him getting his check every two weeks and then i find out that Amanda backs down....cuts him all kinds of slack and lets him wiggle out of what he agrees to. I'm siiick of it. She says i hate him....i don't hate him. I'm indifferent. I think he's a very irresponsible person, and i don't like the people he hangs around. I don't like his lifestyle and i have nothing in common with him...but i don't hate him. I hate the problem that we have that doesn't seem to go away.
And we're getting married here in a month. What a fucking joke!!!!