dear mother. i hate you.
something related to reality...
i come home from work on a good note. so close to a great note but not quite there. i'm satisfied. comfortable. secure... pleasant. then my parents come home and rip a few notes into my sister. time passes. i sit up in my room cramming for my midterms on wednesday. take a break. touch my dusty guitar. play a few notes - sing a few lines - knock knock. mom sits down on the floor in front of me, crosses her legs and lets out a sigh. the conversation starts out civil but with each note our voices get angrier and angrier.
keywords to push her buttons - it's my life. you don't trust me. i am capable of managing my own time. i'll work if i want to work. i'm eighteen stop trying to control me. leave me alone.
keywords to push my buttons - you don't know what life is really like. you're selfish. you're going to fail university if you don't listen to me. i don't want you to end up like your sister. do what i say or else. i can take everything away from you.
more yelling. a slap on the leg. a bang on the door. she yells more and more. slams more and more. and when she leaves she always has to have the last word. i sit hugging my guitar not having moved the whole time. i play a few notes - sing a few lines. my anger turns to worry. my worry turns to saddness. my saddness turns to tears. so i go back to my books to study some more. realize that i'm not absorbing anything, i will fail - i lose at life. i hate being at school.
why is it that there is no one in this world who can make me feel worse and more scared than my mother?
i thought parents were suppose to be that constant support.
that unconditional love.
guess i lucked out.
i come home from work on a good note. so close to a great note but not quite there. i'm satisfied. comfortable. secure... pleasant. then my parents come home and rip a few notes into my sister. time passes. i sit up in my room cramming for my midterms on wednesday. take a break. touch my dusty guitar. play a few notes - sing a few lines - knock knock. mom sits down on the floor in front of me, crosses her legs and lets out a sigh. the conversation starts out civil but with each note our voices get angrier and angrier.
keywords to push her buttons - it's my life. you don't trust me. i am capable of managing my own time. i'll work if i want to work. i'm eighteen stop trying to control me. leave me alone.
keywords to push my buttons - you don't know what life is really like. you're selfish. you're going to fail university if you don't listen to me. i don't want you to end up like your sister. do what i say or else. i can take everything away from you.
more yelling. a slap on the leg. a bang on the door. she yells more and more. slams more and more. and when she leaves she always has to have the last word. i sit hugging my guitar not having moved the whole time. i play a few notes - sing a few lines. my anger turns to worry. my worry turns to saddness. my saddness turns to tears. so i go back to my books to study some more. realize that i'm not absorbing anything, i will fail - i lose at life. i hate being at school.
why is it that there is no one in this world who can make me feel worse and more scared than my mother?
i thought parents were suppose to be that constant support.
that unconditional love.
guess i lucked out.