Hope, Lies, and Magick
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I was at Stater Bros today with Dad. While we were
shopping, I mentioned that we should go to the mall and
get my perfume while we were out. I thought he would
agree, because when I asked him yesterday, he told me we'd
put it off for tomorrow.
Instead, he jumped down my throat, and yelled that he
had a barbecue to deal with and that I always needed
everything "right this minute" and that I was so selfish.
I replied that he always put things off for next week,
next week and that I'd been waiting three months for
Tremors, two weeks for my perfume, and years for a fishing
Angry, I finally said, "Why don't we just put everything
off until next week?"
"I'll just put my homework off for a while."
"Oh, my birthday has come at an inconvienent time, we'll
put it off for next month."
I just shut up. I fumed. I wish he'd just fucking stop
taking every fucking little thing as a joke. I can't
believe he even dares to act hurt when he doesn't know
what's happening in my life; I WOULD FUCKING TELL HIM if
he didn't treat every god damn fucking thing as a joke!
I remember once I told him something was really
bothering me, and he laughed and told Mom, who in turn
giggled. I cried for four hours that night.
This is the fucking reason why American teenagers are
the most hated creatures on the planet. People roll their
eyes and say "teenagers", but never actually stop and
fucking wonder why we might be acting this way. Dad
laughs, which dominoes in an effect where I am NEVER
FUCKING TELLING THEM ANYTHING EVER.
While we were in the car, he said that the mall was
closed, anyway, because it was Labor Day. We both knew he
was fucking lying. Then he said that I had to
stop "putting this shit off until the last minute."
I started saying something like, "Well we both know
you'll just put it off until next week-" and then he just
started screaming, "SHUT UP! Just shut UP!"
I shut up. He tried to start calmly talking to me, but
no, he asked me to shut up, so I shut up.
"C'mon, talk to me."
"No, you told me to shut up."
Thanks, Dad. Sometimes I wish that I was suicidal, a
cutter, or worse, just so he would fucking listen to me,
or physcially see that I'm a fucking being with fucking
feelings, who needs a dad who will actually BE THERE,
instead of sitting on his fat ass on the couch laughing
when she needs help, or making jokes. I used to feel safe
in Daddy's arms, now I feel disgusted, like I'm fucking
As of now, I'm not fucking eating anymore. I used to eat
a meal a day for Dad's approval, but as he's said, I
should watch what I eat or I'll get fat; I need to stop
buying junk; I'm a piggy that eats up everything.
I hope this saves you a couple of bucks, Dad. I can't
refuse the fact that you're my friend and I love you, but
I've never viewed you as a father. I don't think I ever
Lots of Love,