:: a.whisper.in.water ::
::
i'm.okay : how're.you? : thanks.for.asking : thanks.for.asking ::| [::archive::] |
|---|
| [::link.portal::] |
| :: not.a.sellout [>] |
| :: you.know.it's.true [>] |
| :: sgt.pepper [>] |
| :: special.k [>] |
| :: j3rk.city [>] |
| :: florita [>] |
| :: han.chan [>] |
| :: drew [>] |
| :: radio.free.quaker [>] |
| :: girls.girls.girls [>] |
| :: the.morning.paper [>] |
| :: fark [>] |
| :: wang.of.old [>] |
| :: achewood [>] |
| :: hulahluaghalgah [>] |
| :: unamerican [>] |
| :: cheater [>] |
:: Wednesday, December 15, 2004 ::
[ how many nails will this coffin take? ]
48 minutes into a snarled argument, 20 years and 11.5 months down the line...
Me: No. Just answer the question. My success is more important to you than my well-being?
My mother: Yes.
Me: Wrong answer.
At this point I hang up without awaiting a response. If it's a sincere response, talking to her is utterly moot. If it isn't, she's in no position to speak to me, emotionally, if she can say such damaging things. If it's the former, the implication, naturally, is that if I fuck up, my parents won't love me anymore.
Isn't that absurd? Isn't that utterly childish? Isn't that just fucking hilarious?
It's 8:30 a.m. I'm going to listen to more heartbreakingly-gorgeous music, fight the urge to nip outside for a cigarette and a Dining Center egg & cheez biscuit, and try to sleep.
Music: Björk - All Is Full Of Love (Strings Mix). And yet, I've yet to shed a tear in at least a year. I suppose I'm already rotted out, emotionally. Didn't take long at all.
:: Aziz 8:36 AM [+] ::
...
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