"Rainstorms take me away from the norm"
Typical. My brother and I gave our Father's Day gift to our dad. We have some sort of vain deluded hope, the two of us, that for just one day we won't fight with our dad and he'll pretend, just for those 24 hours, that he is not extremely disappointed with us. My brother bought him two books--one history by Amartya Sen and a biography of FDR's presidential years. My dad turned them around and around, paging through them like the lost scripts of the Luna Temple, confirming that he had not indeed already read them, a fact I am fully convinced of. Ever since the age of seven I have been tracking my father's progress through the literary world. He loves bestsellers, nonfiction, economics, and politics in his reading. It's all part of my scheme to have him acknowledge me in some sort of positive manner, or even pretend he is not either extremely afraid of me or completely ignorant of me. Once I realized that bestsellers were not that hard to read, roughly the age of fourteen, I have stolen ever single one of my dad's books and tried to read them. I'll never forget one memorable moment in my life, when my father, in his usual perfunctory manner told me I would never be like him, and I should stop envying him. I have hated him, more or less, ever since. Every time since then that he has either told me what an idiot I am, or pretended to be proud of me, those words ring in my ears. You will never be like me. For anyone who is keeping tabs, my father said to the books, "why did you waste your money?", and turned back to the television.
I've realized I really do not want to be a doctor. It seems like a lot of work for something I am not all that interested in. I look at what the rest of my life could be like as a doctor, nd I don't feel encouraged by the prospects. Sadly, it's become a sort of default career to my parents. I can actually think of four things I would rather do with the rest of my life--become a writer, a restaurateur (a sort of chef-owner), a teacher, or a counselor. But there is not way I will get what I want out of life, so it's a little disappointing. It's actually depressing to think that I will probably spend the rest of my life fighting myself. It's a bit unfortunate that I can actually see myself all fought out against my parents. I realized today that if I never finish college, that would be ok, so long as I could do what I wanted for the rest of my life. I am so sick of living for my parents, doing what they want, living the way they want. I feel like life is too short to live someone else's, so why m I still doing it? Simple. My parents control me financially. AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
So is there something tattooed on my forehead that says, "Dangle happiness like a cat toy"? I feel like screaming because I know I will never be happy. I'm just doomed to have happiness shown to me in only one facet, from a great distance, like a giant kaleidoscope. Even if I break it open to see how it works, I will never find out, and I won't be able to put it right again.
I don't like being offered things by people I don't feel comfortable around. It's just this sense of the strings attached. I'm just restless, ignore me.
So I met this guy. He's nice, but I will not get to see him until October, if I even choose to see him then. He's a little older, a little over-confident, a little much like a guy--binge drinking and smoking aren't high on my list of cool things to do to pass the time. But I'm a little flawed too. I'm at least a little irritating and dependent on others, so who am I to talk?
I had this dream last night that was so real it was actually upsetting to wake up. If life were like this dream, I never want to wake up again. Well, I don't particularly want to wake up these days, but that just keeps happening, doesn't it? I can't help that one. I feel like I end up screaming every time I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a yawn.
I've realized I really do not want to be a doctor. It seems like a lot of work for something I am not all that interested in. I look at what the rest of my life could be like as a doctor, nd I don't feel encouraged by the prospects. Sadly, it's become a sort of default career to my parents. I can actually think of four things I would rather do with the rest of my life--become a writer, a restaurateur (a sort of chef-owner), a teacher, or a counselor. But there is not way I will get what I want out of life, so it's a little disappointing. It's actually depressing to think that I will probably spend the rest of my life fighting myself. It's a bit unfortunate that I can actually see myself all fought out against my parents. I realized today that if I never finish college, that would be ok, so long as I could do what I wanted for the rest of my life. I am so sick of living for my parents, doing what they want, living the way they want. I feel like life is too short to live someone else's, so why m I still doing it? Simple. My parents control me financially. AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!
So is there something tattooed on my forehead that says, "Dangle happiness like a cat toy"? I feel like screaming because I know I will never be happy. I'm just doomed to have happiness shown to me in only one facet, from a great distance, like a giant kaleidoscope. Even if I break it open to see how it works, I will never find out, and I won't be able to put it right again.
I don't like being offered things by people I don't feel comfortable around. It's just this sense of the strings attached. I'm just restless, ignore me.
So I met this guy. He's nice, but I will not get to see him until October, if I even choose to see him then. He's a little older, a little over-confident, a little much like a guy--binge drinking and smoking aren't high on my list of cool things to do to pass the time. But I'm a little flawed too. I'm at least a little irritating and dependent on others, so who am I to talk?
I had this dream last night that was so real it was actually upsetting to wake up. If life were like this dream, I never want to wake up again. Well, I don't particularly want to wake up these days, but that just keeps happening, doesn't it? I can't help that one. I feel like I end up screaming every time I open my mouth, but all that comes out is a yawn.