Felt like posting something more personal

Need to get out of this fucking house; I guess I’m glad I scheduled my maths tutoring for this time.

 He can’t seem to understand people’s basic needs other than his. He can’t seem to conceive that yes he may work hard, and yes he may be ‘exhausted’, but living in a family with children and an equally (if not more) exhausted wife is not going to run smoothly and things will get damaged externally as well as within.

He needs to go to bed earlier. He may do little things like pick a few pieces of crap off the floor after people, but his wife picks up his things AS well as ours and all the other manually exhausting jobs to come with it. He is not an angel, nor the God of this family. He may make his points logical, but they do not apply to the far deeper emotional strains within each individual of this household. This family is not a business (unfortunately for him), this family is a FAMILY with every other tiny imperfection that comes commonly with most modern day domestics.

No I am not an angel, and I cannot speak in all confidence against things to do with laziness in the house. But I understand my mum, and yes I do understand what my father means in his words although he does seem to think that I ‘never listen’, I understand immensely more than he thinks. There is a difference between listening, understanding and obeying, and listening, understanding and choosing against what is understood. He cannot possibly see this though as ‘obviously’ if you have listened and understood anything that he has said, then this means that you cannot do anything but  co-operate (his favourite word) with his decision because ‘HE IS GOD, THE ALMIGHTY DECICER’. Have you ever listened to a word or phrase repeated so many times that it begins to lose its meaning? Well that happens a lot when he moves his mouth.

 

I realise in reading this that I may be young and probably slightly naïve, but I am aware that I do not ‘know everything’ and most of my opinions do not have as much back up or experience has his do. This does not mean that I am going to agree with them though.

Unfortunately, as this is the case with many other middle aged men with families, money rules his life. He may nurture us with possessions and food on the table, but this has nothing to do with emotional scars he leaves with it. He has no right to tell us (especially my little brothers) of what goes on between him and his wife. He has no right to think that he can manipulate the children into taking sides as they are the easy targets to puncture. This has happened once before, but I will not let it happen again and will remain above all that goes on between them, only doing what I believe is right for myself and my brothers.

Write about what you’re afraid of.
━ Donald Barthelme (via mythologyofblue)

(via workman)

When I came home from the hospital there were such hard frosts that in the little wood just outside our town, where colonies of rooks and crows always gathered, the trees were wreathed with these black birds; they gleamed in frosty sun of morning, and when I came to the wood I saw thousands of these rooks lying about the ground, round every tree, like over-ripe bosnian plums… a whole wood full of dead, even those which were still roosting in the branches, even they were dead, frozen in their sleep. I stamped the sole of my shoe against the trunk of a tree, that time, and out of the boughs and branches showered hoar-frost and dead birds; several of them brushed my shoulders, but they were so light that it was only as if an empty beret had fallen on me.
━ Closely Observed Trains, Bohumil Hrabal. (via erodetheperson)

(via sabbataj)

When I came home from the hospital there were such hard frosts that in the little wood just outside our town, where colonies of rooks and crows always gathered, the trees were wreathed with these black birds; they gleamed in frosty sun of morning, and when I came to the wood I saw thousands of these rooks lying about the ground, round every tree, like over-ripe bosnian plums… a whole wood full of dead, even those which were still roosting in the branches, even they were dead, frozen in their sleep. I stamped the sole of my shoe against the trunk of a tree, that time, and out of the boughs and branches showered hoar-frost and dead birds; several of them brushed my shoulders, but they were so light that it was only as if an empty beret had fallen on me.
━ Closely Observed Trains, Bohumil Hrabal. (via erodetheperson)

(via sabbataj)