Outing with Mom and Sis.

I love you both, but even through the cloudy medicine head I had today I realized the truth about what we have.

Sister, first person: I am obligated to love her though we have never, never gotten along. She ignores what I say and slathers on her hyper Right Wing philosophies, thick with Bible quotes (that I was spouting off years ago in response to her disgusting habits) meant to shake me back into her reality--one filled with family moral values; the kind that allow for sins like racism and a soft bucking of the law for specific splurges. The untrue, classic, fallacy-filled logic I've been fighting against my whole life. She stands knee deep in the swamp of methods and customs that come from growing up in the deep south. We all lived in the same house with the same parents, but out of the five of us, she has retained that Blanche Dubois characteristic of hiding behind a culture that no longer exists, and a deeply flawed culture at that. My sister, my opposite: a great example of the things I do not wish to be. And I love her still, in spite of myself. Tell me more please, about how I ruin everything, and more about the problems in the way I live.

Mother, second person: Meaning so well but always trying in the wrong way. If I knew how to better communicate I would, but even I don't fully understand myself, so you really cannot expect to. You will probably never understand why I grow depressed and lonely, and I know that when I do things in pursuit of happiness they seem crazy to you. I know when I go to the zoo by myself it makes no sense, but isn't this better than what I could be doing? Your priorities are different than mine, and like Pants you seem to have the preconcieved notion that just because it comes from you it must be flawless and true.

It is just so horribly cliche to say things like "My family doesn't understand me." It also just happens to be somewhat of an understatement. I cannot fathom how we can all carry the same germs, same DNA, same bone structure, and be so exponentionally different.

I find myself to be, as I often am after heavy contemplation, "Talking shit about a pretty sunset, blanketing opinions that I'll probably regret soon." And therefore, "I digress"...

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