Taking the First

Tomorrow is the food pantry. Until further notice. I rested in bed with Aesop for a few hours, feeling alone and afraid of having to survive on my own. I kept telling myself that I’ve been doing independence all along. I dreamed that I was an intruder in someone else’s house, and that’s very appropriate to the reality of how I feel. My parents probably abused me, but I don’t know in what way. I only know they made me feel unwelcome. I suppose they only wanted their life of pleasure together, and I was a distraction from that. Maybe my parents really were bad to me. I barely remember what they were like. They expected me to listen to my records alone and stay out of their hair. So again I was brought up on the music more than by my parents. Do I judge my parents now? It would be too late for that, since they are long dead. But it’s safe to say that they were like strangers to me growing up. My dad didn’t care for children at all, and Mom was off in her own little world. If I was not abused, then at least I was neglected. And this explains why I fear independence. If I am a good person, then it’s by virtue of my genetics, which gave me intelligence and a mild temperament. Otherwise I was fatherless and motherless.

The really irksome thing was that there was no open communication in my nuclear family. And any decisions the family made were without my input. I was never allowed an opinion as long as my parents lived. Unfortunately, they were not very smart. If they had been a little brighter, they would’ve found a way to express themselves to each other and to me, and encouraged me to speak my mind. Being lip locked was an injustice like no other, and my siblings tried to perpetuate the same policy with me, until I finally couldn’t take any more. My sister took the biggest explosion of my temper, but my brother deserved it likewise. I still wouldn’t give a flying fuck if my family were to suddenly drop dead. Freedom of speech is an inalienable human right, and it is denied only with very dire consequences. I hope that my family someday reads these words and feels their force. They have no excuse for the way they treated me, so I hope they all burn in hell.


The Last Straw

Just a recap of how I broke with my sister’s family two years ago.

It happened that I received an email from the people at Mozilla petitioning me to post something re net neutrality on Facebook. So I obliged, and into the bargain I expressed my feelings re censorship and the person we have currently in office. It got posted to the Facebook home page.

Well, my oldest nephew saw the post and reportedly went ballistic. But instead of calling me about it, he enlisted his mommy to call me on the phone and inform me what was what. When Polly got on the horn to me and began to lecture what kind of things can be said on Facebook, I saw red myself and exploded in profanities at my sister. She hung up and that really was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

A year later I deactivated my account with Facebook. I figured that it was more my family’s kind of mentality. And that’s pretty much the whole story—- with a few expletives removed, but not on account of any conservative attitude.

Thanks for reading!