Thursday, April 22, 2021

My Innocent Conversation ... Fuck You, Old Man

My Fucking Father ... I may have already talked about this ... I hate, fucking hate when I try to start a conversation at the dinner table and he uses it to come down on me over something he hates about me.  It had been about going back to school, and I hope to God that he realizes that fucking ship has sailed.  Cleaning my room to a standard he approves of?  He hasn't let that go yet.

Yesterday I told Mother that I am thinking about buying something on Amazon.  She has asked me to tell her before I buy something just in case she needs something; that way we may save money on shipping.  So that motherfucker uses this opportunity to start a conversation I don't want, about cleaning my room -- pack those Amazon boxes away (that's how he ties what he wants to talk about with my conversation), then clean up your room and other bullshit.

And I hate, just fucking hate, how he hijacks my innocent conversation, and me, to point out something he thinks I do wrong.  And I am in fear that if I don't do what he has taking this craven opportunity to tell me what I should do, he'll do it for me.  Several months ago he tried to recycle some of my papers.  I was able to stop him, but only because I was willing to dig into the trash to retrieve my things.  I can't give into him now.  But once he knows I'm going to resist, what will he do to me?

And goddammit, we were going so well.  I think I need to realize that this isn't something I triggered in him.  He has been annoyed by my things for some time, apparently; he just wanted an opportunity to tell me, and like a pussy-ass bitch, he uses my innocent conversation to do it.

Fuck that old man in his diseased pisshole.

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