We’re all beautiful flowers hungry for the sun. Let me
re-phrase that: we’re all Home Depot pansies; ordinary, thirsty as fuck, and
capable of suffocating the life out the flower next to us for our time in the
sun.
I’ve long believed that humans have this insatiable need to
be seen and adored. I’m no different. I don’t work out every day just because
it makes me feel good. You’d be smoking crack if you believed that I wouldn’t
rather be eating pizza by the box and washing it down with milkshakes and full
calorie soda. Holy shit, that was erotic. No - I work out, maintain basic hygiene,
and try not to be too much of a cunt
because I seek approval.
Why are we such pieces of shit? Tell ya what, I’ll try not to
figure you out; I’ll just talk about what an ass I am.
I was having a discussion with my cousin this morning. She’s
a Dr. and wasn’t prescribing me anything and I didn’t owe her anything at the
end of our discussion, so choke on that. Anyhow, we talked a bit (I talked) about
how people tend to take tragedies and make them catastrophes, then paint
themselves right smack in the center of them (and how this fucking irritates
me) when really, they ought to sit down and respect the process that usually HAS
NOTHING TO DO WITH THEM. Once I had myself affixed to my soapbox securely, I
was able to talk shit with more confidence. How dare these people! What kind of
asshole thinks only of themselves in situations and has no regard for others? Me.
I do.
I was a lonely kid growing up. I knew I was cool as fuck though
too. I’m certain I remember myself much differently than I was. If you ask me
to describe myself (I’m going to anyway) I would say that I was a bit of a
loner with a book habit. I indulged in music and shitty poetry and dreamed of
being a musician; all dark and brooding. I was a 14-yr. old girl for fucks
sake. I might say that I was unique. Ugh! I was not unique. Not even a little.
At least not in the ways or for the reasons that I thought made one unique. I
dyed my hair and played guitar, so fucking what?! I was no more special for that than
my neighbor, she was a living Barbie doll. I brought home strange homeless
people and tried to fix the wing of a bird that my cat tried to kill. When I
couldn’t fix the bird and my mom found out about Tom (homeless guy I hid in the
attic) I was heartbroken and cried for days – THAT is the shit that made me
special.
But despite being special, I was still a piece of shit…
I fluffed my cousin with compliments (all legit by the way);
told her how she had always been an inspiration for me. She made me want to do
better for myself. Ok, I’m lying again. She pissed me off because she was
always better than me – at everything. This bitch came from another country,
barely able to understand our language, and I hooked her up. I took her to school
with me and helped acclimate her. Before I knew it, she surpassed me – at everything.
I was hella pissed. I learned to
compete with her…at everything. I even challenged her to a goddamn sit-up
contest. Who da fuck does that shit?! BTW, cousin, I’m still pissed. I hurt for
a long time after that. Pride and abdomen alike.
She reminded me just how fucked up my mean streak can be. Here
is a little excerpt. God bless her for being so forgiving. This was a HUGE slap
in the face for me. I have always thought of myself as relatively kind, but
this is hard for me. This was some spiteful ass shit. Check it out…
Her: Lol about the sit-ups. Do
you remember how when you’d get mad at me, you’d yell “when you grow up, you’re
going to look like your mother and I’m going to look like mine!” You where prophetically right about that.
I guess in some ways, we all turn into our
mothers.
Me: I said that out of anger?
That is so fucking not cool. There was nothing wrong with Eva. Kids are evil.
I'm sorry. I don't remember that.
Her: We were just kids. I find it
pretty funny.
Me: No, that's shitty.
I apologize. I was a mean kid. I'm seeing that
now.
That's actually horrifying. Your mother was
beautiful. I remember the picture of her and your father in my grandmothers
living room. I was just being a spiteful brat
Her: I appreciate you saying
that, but an apology is not needed. We had a kind of sibling rivalry that was
ripe for this kind of stuff. As an adult, I have realized I was a pretty mean
adolescent to my younger brothers
Me: My mom was a drunk and a pill
addict. So yeah...my declaration of "I get to be like her" was
fitting. Now, that is funny. OMG.... I will so be writing about that!! LMAO
I wanted to come out of every situation the winner. To some degree,
I still do. It’s a very unattractive quality. I’m pretty sure that I’ve done
some growing since 2nd grade although sometimes I question how much.
For instance: competing with the woman (or man) at the gym on the machine next
to me is just plain dumb. Doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it later tonight,
just means it dumb. Because, remember…I want to look good in those jeans so that
I can steal the sunshine from the Barbie doll next to while eating pizza by the
box. I’m no better than you; in fact, I’m terrible. I’m still working on my
shit though. What are you doing?
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