(no subject)

[wangery]

i've got about two hours in this morning that i have not decided at all how to spend. I think it's time for my grandmother to die. That's what i have thought the past ten or twenty times that i've seen her. She's not getting anywhere with herself...her physical debilitations are to a point where she can barely comprehend what's around her. Her personality is one where she doesn't appreciate or enjoy jack shit, but is just simply constantly paranoid that she'll lose any of her material goods. She devotes herself to nothing but becoming obsessed and neurotic about the most insignificant things, like the size of her trash can underneath her paper shredder, and the amount of eggs that i eat. These two things have been big topics of discussion with her for a week. What is going on here? It's high time for this one to be sent out to pasture. She approaches everything in life like a threat, she's helpless and blindfolded and she's already in her coffin but she can't even figure it out yet. I see vultures outside the room, just patiently watching. This must all sound awful, but after 3 years of living with this woman, i can comfortably speak this way. She's lived past her time, and she's made herself a burden on everyone else. And she shows not a bit of wisdom for it all. So where's my compassion? Where's my understanding? Shit, she must have it hard, she's had it hard for years. But here's what keeps me cold. She has the same attitude as my mother. She's submissive, yet she's subversive. She treats her own family members like criminals, and investigates them. Scrutinizes their every word and movement. Searches through trash cans. Notices any abnormality in the daily routine and chews it until she hits the marrow. Creeps through other rooms just looking for things. And yet, these are the women who are always trying to "keep the peace", always revered by other family members as having "hearts of gold". Frankly, if they had hearts of gold, they would sell them in a second and hide the profits in a glass jar in a fireproof trunk in the back closet. Where is my mother or my grandmother's heart of gold when they tell me it's wrong if i don't get married and have children? Where are their hearts of gold when they search my garbage after it's been deposited in the garage, trying to find condoms or cigarette packs? Where are their hearts of gold when they watch the news and condemn everything that doesn't fit their febreezed God-fearing "neighborhood" way of life? Fuck this, i'm surrounded by self-serving peacekeepers, who know nothing but how to avoid conflict, or should i say avoid honesty. They are in the front lines of the war to uphold the belief that everything is ok.

In other news, coffee gives me the runs.