Because bad taste is better than no taste at all.....

Sunday, May 11, 2014

#292: A giant can of worms.

..........You have no doubt heard that expression. Opening up a can of worms, as in bringing up a subject that would probably best not be brought up. But you do anyway. And so here goes. This has been building for quite some time. And you're likely to not want to speak to me, ever again.

So be it.

This needed to be said, and in a very public place.  Because others are, no doubt, thinking the same as I am. And they need to know they aren't alone, that others are thinking it too.

When I stumbled across your blog several years ago, I was overjoyed. We had lost track of one another for a while, and I always wondered what had happened to you. It was good to know you were doing ok. Absence making the heart grow fonder and all that crap.  But then I got to reading-REALLY reading--some of the stuff you post. And I've had to sit back and ask, "huh?" Some things here need clearification.

Mainly, about how your childhood was So. Fucking. Hard.

Obviously, I am missing something here. You must be leaving some stuff out. Yeah. That's it.

Were you abused as a child? Not that I can see. That sort of thing usually carries over, and when I stayed with you they left ME alone, at any rate.

Were you starved? Beaten? Made to live outside with the dogs?
No, no and no.

So what were you going on about? Oh yeah--you were WHINING about how your parents LIED about SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED BEFORE YOU WERE EVEN FUCKING BORN. Something that DID NOT effect YOU in any way. Pardon me if I am not impressed. Because the decision involved was probably not an easy one--you do not just wake up one morning and decide to do this. Trust me--it is a long, slow PAINFUL process. *I HAVE BEEN THERE.* (yes, you read that last part correctly)

Okay, so I admit the news WOULD have been a bit hard to swallow this late in the game, would it not?. But it's like riding a bike. You get back on and keep moving. You certainly did. Or so I thought. But then I kept reading.

So what else went wrong with your life?

You didn't get to go see THAT movie on opening day.

................This brought a serious "WHAT THE EVER-LOVIN FUCK" from me. I got this mental image of a five year old throwing a TANTRUM because she didn't get the same Barbie doll as every one else. So you ended up doing something else on that day. Parents are like that--they might not "get" that something is that important to you, especially when you're little.  Funny, the Earth kept turning..... You DID eventually get to go see it, did you not?

Moving on.

Your most recent post was the kicker. You never got to tell a certain actor how much a particular movie meant to you. I can understand your sadness....It's often the little things that keep you from killing yourself. (I think if it hadn't of been for Tolkien's books, I'd of offed myself at 13...) But then you go on about how it "got you through a difficult time in your life".  This brings me back to the "you must not be telling us everything that went on" idea. So now I'm asking: WHAT??

So what went on that has you scarred for life? What terrible things went on that I apparently didn't see? You don't have to love your parents any more. But at least appreciate that you still have them around to be angry at.

Happy Fucking Mothers Day.

Feel free to reply, or email if it isn't for public consumption.

Scratch

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