(no subject)
This is what happened.
Just the other day, mom was complaining about how the brakes on her car were going out. Dan kept making up excuses as to why he couldn't replace them, such as that he didn't have the money. Now, I understand firsthand that he's a busy guy, but he so claims that we, his "family", are very important assets to him ("Precous Cargo" is the term he used, I believe).
The brakes aren't fixed. This morning we pulled out of the driveway to take Maggie to day care, Blake to school, and me to work.
Mom had to put the car in park so that she wouldn't slam into the car in the driveway across the street.
She called Dan, and he presumably didn't say anything too helpful. Yeah, if we slammed on the brakes when we were going five miles an hour or less, we would come to a slow stop, but if we were driving down the highway this wasn't safe. I got out of the car and stated my refusal to ride in it. Mom understood.
I can finally understand what's going on here firsthand. I could easily envision a life full of peace and happiness with Katy and I, living together, her writing novels about how scary it was, where she is and where she was going in life before we were happy together. Me, writing music, piecing it together in my home studio, spending hours on each software synthesiser, each new MIDI sample, hand-manipulating each note for that beautiful sound of perfection in each piece of music. Us, going to coffee shops, poetry jams, me giving concerts and her reading and us acting together in plays and movies we make together. It going on like that for the rest of our lives, happiness.
And I can see Dan withering that away, slowly but surely.
Just the other day, mom was complaining about how the brakes on her car were going out. Dan kept making up excuses as to why he couldn't replace them, such as that he didn't have the money. Now, I understand firsthand that he's a busy guy, but he so claims that we, his "family", are very important assets to him ("Precous Cargo" is the term he used, I believe).
The brakes aren't fixed. This morning we pulled out of the driveway to take Maggie to day care, Blake to school, and me to work.
Mom had to put the car in park so that she wouldn't slam into the car in the driveway across the street.
She called Dan, and he presumably didn't say anything too helpful. Yeah, if we slammed on the brakes when we were going five miles an hour or less, we would come to a slow stop, but if we were driving down the highway this wasn't safe. I got out of the car and stated my refusal to ride in it. Mom understood.
I can finally understand what's going on here firsthand. I could easily envision a life full of peace and happiness with Katy and I, living together, her writing novels about how scary it was, where she is and where she was going in life before we were happy together. Me, writing music, piecing it together in my home studio, spending hours on each software synthesiser, each new MIDI sample, hand-manipulating each note for that beautiful sound of perfection in each piece of music. Us, going to coffee shops, poetry jams, me giving concerts and her reading and us acting together in plays and movies we make together. It going on like that for the rest of our lives, happiness.
And I can see Dan withering that away, slowly but surely.