I'm supposed to be cleaning my room. The Aunts are coming in a few days and the house has to be spotless. Can't let them see who we really are, you know? Everything has to be perfect, not a thing out of place.
Yesterday my brother forced us to play I Never and I think after the gane was finished, everyone wished we had never played. Things were learned that no one ever wanted to know. We learned my mother has given at least ten blow jobs in her life, everyone learned I once had a crush on a girl and then everyone learned something about my brother that....let's just say it involves booger. But none of that compared to what they learned about me. (Hint: It's something sexual.)
There are things that should be known and things that shouldn't.
In my opinion.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
Friday, May 22, 2009
Between Fingertips
Between Fingertips
"Children want to feel instinctively that their father is behind them as solid as a mountain, but, like a mountain, is something to look up to."
-Dorothy Thompson
Five. There are five stages of grief and each one grabs onto you and hangs on like a tic, feeding off your misery. Sometimes people work through the five stages in a month, five weeks, five months, a year maybe. Others are different. You remember it took you years to work through the five stages, and you remember each stage like it was yesterday …..
Part One, Denial: The Destruction You Left Behind.
Things don’t have to change that much, you tell yourself. So what if you don’t see him every day, you see him every other weekend, that’s just as good. No change at all really. It’s not even a big deal. Maybe you won’t fight as much this way.
It really is better this way. It’s better that the visits stopped, because they were too awkward and it was weird saying goodbye when all you really wanted to say was "When are you coming home?" Because he will come home. Things like this happen to other people, they don’t happen to you. Your life is normal, completely normal. Nothing is wrong, because he’ll come home, it’s just a matter of time, and everything will be the same.
You love the phone call arrangement. It’s great! There aren’t any awkward pauses at all. That’s just you catching your breath after all the talking you did. You don’t roll your eyes when he tells you he’s changed, that he’s getting his life together, that he’s training to be a firefighter. Really. You don’t. Because it’s all true. And he’s doing all this for you, not for him. He’s doing it so he can come back. So everything can be right. And it will be right again, because this just doesn’t happen to you.
So the visits stopped, so the phone calls stopped, so you’re moving where he can’t find you. So you haven’t seen him in years, so all you have is memories, growing faded like old photographs, so you don’t even know him anymore. So what?
It doesn’t matter.
Because these things don’t happen to you.
Part Two, Anger: Hell Is Where You Are.
You want to hit him. You want to see him again just so you can yell at him and hit him so hard he goes crashing to the ground. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t think about you. He’s got a new daughter to break like he broke you. He’ll tell her he loves her; he’ll make her think he’ll always be there, and then he’ll leave. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he only did that with you.
It’s not because you weren’t good enough, because you were. You were a great daughter. It was because he was a coward. A man who didn’t try hard enough to be what he should have been.
As far as you’re concerned all he is now is a bug on the bottom of your shoe. A bad memory you wish you could erase. You never want to see him again. Let him live his miserable life filled with guilt. He means nothing to you now. You don’t need him.
You’re glad he left. All he was, was poison. Maybe that’s what his blood is. Poison. And now that same blood is running through your veins like the poison that it is. You wish he wasn’t half your DNA. You wish she had chosen someone else, someone, anyone, other than him. Someone who didn’t leave when things got hard. Someone who wasn’t a complete loser. You would have been better off.
You don’t think of him at all. Let him live with his demons of guilt taunting him. Let him live with your ghost whispering in his ear. You don’t care.
He’s not going to break you again. That’s what his new daughter is for.
Part Three, Bargaining: Die For These Sins.
"I’ll clean my room, I’ll go to school, I won’t talk back, I’ll be the perfect daughter," you pray. Like it’ll make a difference. You know by now that things will never go back to the way they were. Those days are gone. But you would still trade everything you own just to see him again.
Not only do you want to see him more than anything, you want to wake up and have all this be a dream. You’ll sell your soul for that to happen. You know it’s ridiculous. These things have already happened. You can’t change things just by praying.
You would give your heart to hear his voice again, even if it is only one last time. You would give any one of your five senses just to know if he thinks of you at all. Even if it does hurt you more than it helps you. You would give your talent to know he’s sorry, even if it doesn’t mean much anymore. You would give your last breath just to know why he left, why he decided to leave you all alone.
You’re not stupid, you know it won’t happen, but you don’t care. You’re so desperate you’ll try anything.
So you pray.
You bargain.
Part Four, Depression: Hang Limply On.
Maybe he wasn’t perfect. Maybe he wasn’t a great guy. Maybe he had his flaws, but he was still your Dad, and you still love him with everything you have.
You were young when he left and while you understood what was happening, you never really let yourself grieve, until you had all this time on your hands. Time that made you think.
Some days, there’s this weight on your chest, and it gets so heavy that you can’t breathe. Some days, moments go by when all you want to do is cry out, but the screams, the whispers of "Daddy come home" die in your throat and all you’re left with is a bitter taste in your mouth and a lump in your throat.
You hide it all. You hide that you’ve been trying to find him on the computer. You hide how much it hurts. You hide everything. You say you’re fine when really you’re not. Until one night you break. Then the next thing you know you’re in Mom’s room, and she’s half asleep, but she’s listening. You’re crying, and asking over and over to know why until even your dog looks at you funny.
You don’t remember what your Mom said that night, but you remember it helped. You still love him with everything you have; only now you know he loves you too.
Part Five, Acceptance: The Noise of Stars.
You’re never going to understand why this happened, why he left. You’re always going to wonder if he thinks of you, if he misses you. You’re always going to wonder if he thinks of his only son. You’re always going to miss him. You’re always going to love him. But now you know this is the way it has to be.
If he hadn’t left, you and everyone else involved would be damaged, at best, because of the relationship he had with your mother and even with you.
Acceptance is the hardest stage to reach, some people get lost along the way, and you’re glad you’ve finally gotten there, after all these years. You’re glad you can remember him, with only a touch of sadness.
You’ve decided to stop looking for him. If it’s meant to be he’ll find you. When he’s ready. You’re positive you can manage to survive without him. After all, you’ve got a pretty amazing mother.
You’ve accepted that this has happened to you, that it’s happened and there is nothing you can do about it. You’ve accepted that he probably won’t be there to walk you down the aisle if and when you get married. You’ve accepted that his only son, your brother, has to grow up without a father. You’ve accepted a lot of things, but still, every night you look at the stars and wonder if he’s looking at the same ones.
Because his blood still runs through your veins, he’s still your Dad, and you’re still going to need him.
But for now, you’re going to be just fine.
"It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was."
- Anne Sexton
end
and that is the story that won in a local fair.
"Children want to feel instinctively that their father is behind them as solid as a mountain, but, like a mountain, is something to look up to."
-Dorothy Thompson
Five. There are five stages of grief and each one grabs onto you and hangs on like a tic, feeding off your misery. Sometimes people work through the five stages in a month, five weeks, five months, a year maybe. Others are different. You remember it took you years to work through the five stages, and you remember each stage like it was yesterday …..
Part One, Denial: The Destruction You Left Behind.
Things don’t have to change that much, you tell yourself. So what if you don’t see him every day, you see him every other weekend, that’s just as good. No change at all really. It’s not even a big deal. Maybe you won’t fight as much this way.
It really is better this way. It’s better that the visits stopped, because they were too awkward and it was weird saying goodbye when all you really wanted to say was "When are you coming home?" Because he will come home. Things like this happen to other people, they don’t happen to you. Your life is normal, completely normal. Nothing is wrong, because he’ll come home, it’s just a matter of time, and everything will be the same.
You love the phone call arrangement. It’s great! There aren’t any awkward pauses at all. That’s just you catching your breath after all the talking you did. You don’t roll your eyes when he tells you he’s changed, that he’s getting his life together, that he’s training to be a firefighter. Really. You don’t. Because it’s all true. And he’s doing all this for you, not for him. He’s doing it so he can come back. So everything can be right. And it will be right again, because this just doesn’t happen to you.
So the visits stopped, so the phone calls stopped, so you’re moving where he can’t find you. So you haven’t seen him in years, so all you have is memories, growing faded like old photographs, so you don’t even know him anymore. So what?
It doesn’t matter.
Because these things don’t happen to you.
Part Two, Anger: Hell Is Where You Are.
You want to hit him. You want to see him again just so you can yell at him and hit him so hard he goes crashing to the ground. He doesn’t care about you. He doesn’t think about you. He’s got a new daughter to break like he broke you. He’ll tell her he loves her; he’ll make her think he’ll always be there, and then he’ll leave. Or maybe he won’t. Maybe he only did that with you.
It’s not because you weren’t good enough, because you were. You were a great daughter. It was because he was a coward. A man who didn’t try hard enough to be what he should have been.
As far as you’re concerned all he is now is a bug on the bottom of your shoe. A bad memory you wish you could erase. You never want to see him again. Let him live his miserable life filled with guilt. He means nothing to you now. You don’t need him.
You’re glad he left. All he was, was poison. Maybe that’s what his blood is. Poison. And now that same blood is running through your veins like the poison that it is. You wish he wasn’t half your DNA. You wish she had chosen someone else, someone, anyone, other than him. Someone who didn’t leave when things got hard. Someone who wasn’t a complete loser. You would have been better off.
You don’t think of him at all. Let him live with his demons of guilt taunting him. Let him live with your ghost whispering in his ear. You don’t care.
He’s not going to break you again. That’s what his new daughter is for.
Part Three, Bargaining: Die For These Sins.
"I’ll clean my room, I’ll go to school, I won’t talk back, I’ll be the perfect daughter," you pray. Like it’ll make a difference. You know by now that things will never go back to the way they were. Those days are gone. But you would still trade everything you own just to see him again.
Not only do you want to see him more than anything, you want to wake up and have all this be a dream. You’ll sell your soul for that to happen. You know it’s ridiculous. These things have already happened. You can’t change things just by praying.
You would give your heart to hear his voice again, even if it is only one last time. You would give any one of your five senses just to know if he thinks of you at all. Even if it does hurt you more than it helps you. You would give your talent to know he’s sorry, even if it doesn’t mean much anymore. You would give your last breath just to know why he left, why he decided to leave you all alone.
You’re not stupid, you know it won’t happen, but you don’t care. You’re so desperate you’ll try anything.
So you pray.
You bargain.
Part Four, Depression: Hang Limply On.
Maybe he wasn’t perfect. Maybe he wasn’t a great guy. Maybe he had his flaws, but he was still your Dad, and you still love him with everything you have.
You were young when he left and while you understood what was happening, you never really let yourself grieve, until you had all this time on your hands. Time that made you think.
Some days, there’s this weight on your chest, and it gets so heavy that you can’t breathe. Some days, moments go by when all you want to do is cry out, but the screams, the whispers of "Daddy come home" die in your throat and all you’re left with is a bitter taste in your mouth and a lump in your throat.
You hide it all. You hide that you’ve been trying to find him on the computer. You hide how much it hurts. You hide everything. You say you’re fine when really you’re not. Until one night you break. Then the next thing you know you’re in Mom’s room, and she’s half asleep, but she’s listening. You’re crying, and asking over and over to know why until even your dog looks at you funny.
You don’t remember what your Mom said that night, but you remember it helped. You still love him with everything you have; only now you know he loves you too.
Part Five, Acceptance: The Noise of Stars.
You’re never going to understand why this happened, why he left. You’re always going to wonder if he thinks of you, if he misses you. You’re always going to wonder if he thinks of his only son. You’re always going to miss him. You’re always going to love him. But now you know this is the way it has to be.
If he hadn’t left, you and everyone else involved would be damaged, at best, because of the relationship he had with your mother and even with you.
Acceptance is the hardest stage to reach, some people get lost along the way, and you’re glad you’ve finally gotten there, after all these years. You’re glad you can remember him, with only a touch of sadness.
You’ve decided to stop looking for him. If it’s meant to be he’ll find you. When he’s ready. You’re positive you can manage to survive without him. After all, you’ve got a pretty amazing mother.
You’ve accepted that this has happened to you, that it’s happened and there is nothing you can do about it. You’ve accepted that he probably won’t be there to walk you down the aisle if and when you get married. You’ve accepted that his only son, your brother, has to grow up without a father. You’ve accepted a lot of things, but still, every night you look at the stars and wonder if he’s looking at the same ones.
Because his blood still runs through your veins, he’s still your Dad, and you’re still going to need him.
But for now, you’re going to be just fine.
"It doesn’t matter who my father was; it matters who I remember he was."
- Anne Sexton
end
and that is the story that won in a local fair.
I am Becks, hear me roar!
So, I did it. I sent an e-mail to my father's girlfriend just saying hi and telling her who I am. I asked her if my father wants to know anything about me and my brother.
And I told my mom. She was great about it, but my brother...I honestly thought he was going to start crying. Then he changed the subject.
I'm feeling a little....complicated.
I suppose that's understandable though.
And I told my mom. She was great about it, but my brother...I honestly thought he was going to start crying. Then he changed the subject.
I'm feeling a little....complicated.
I suppose that's understandable though.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
I'm back, baby!
I'm back! Yes, that is right, I no longer suffer from the dreaded Writer's Block. Last night I sat down and I wrote an entire story in half an hour. I said it once and I'll say it again; I am back!
In other news, the stupid DVD turned out to just be a little tempermental. It doesn't seem to like me. It works in every DVD player except my two. Strange huh? I would think so, but it's nothing new. No human out there likes me, why should my trusty electronics? But enough about that, compared to what happened to me yesterday night, this is all thick gravy goodness.
I found my Dad.
Yes, you heard right. I found my dad. Actually, I found his girlfriend, but same difference, he's supposed to be living with her and my new half sister that I never knew about.
.......What's that? Oh. I didn't tell you about all that shit. Well, let me start from the beginning then....
When I was about eight or nine, my dad left. Well, actually, we left my dad. He was never the father he should have been and he never loved my mother enough, so we left. At first we visited and then there was phone calls and then....well and then it all stopped. All communication ceased, we moved here, and a few months back, I discovered Facebook and I found a bunch of relatives on my father's side who I hadn't spoken to in years. I learned from my cousin that my father still lives in Victoria and he now has a girlfriend and a baby daughter named Elise. Isn't that great? Anyways, and then my mother was contacted via Facebook by the woman my father lives with. We never responded, but I always wondered. So, yesterday when I was looking for my father on the internet (just something I try to do every now and then) I decided I would look up his girlfriend instead. Guess what? Got her address, her postal code, her phone number, her e-mail address, hell, I even got directions.
So, now I know where my father is.
Question is; what am I going to do with this information?
In other news, the stupid DVD turned out to just be a little tempermental. It doesn't seem to like me. It works in every DVD player except my two. Strange huh? I would think so, but it's nothing new. No human out there likes me, why should my trusty electronics? But enough about that, compared to what happened to me yesterday night, this is all thick gravy goodness.
I found my Dad.
Yes, you heard right. I found my dad. Actually, I found his girlfriend, but same difference, he's supposed to be living with her and my new half sister that I never knew about.
.......What's that? Oh. I didn't tell you about all that shit. Well, let me start from the beginning then....
When I was about eight or nine, my dad left. Well, actually, we left my dad. He was never the father he should have been and he never loved my mother enough, so we left. At first we visited and then there was phone calls and then....well and then it all stopped. All communication ceased, we moved here, and a few months back, I discovered Facebook and I found a bunch of relatives on my father's side who I hadn't spoken to in years. I learned from my cousin that my father still lives in Victoria and he now has a girlfriend and a baby daughter named Elise. Isn't that great? Anyways, and then my mother was contacted via Facebook by the woman my father lives with. We never responded, but I always wondered. So, yesterday when I was looking for my father on the internet (just something I try to do every now and then) I decided I would look up his girlfriend instead. Guess what? Got her address, her postal code, her phone number, her e-mail address, hell, I even got directions.
So, now I know where my father is.
Question is; what am I going to do with this information?
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
well, this is just super
Guess what happened to me today? Watched disc one of my new Veronica Mars season one, put disc two in and - nada. Zilch. The big goose egg. Nothing happened.
*sighs*
Annnnnd.....
....the bitterness and cynical-ness is back. Should have figured. I was having a good day, it's not shocking something ruined it. So, now I have to return the faulty DVD set and get another one. Isn't that wonderful? You know, this always happens to me. Something good happens and then something bad happens to diminish the happy feeling. And then something worse happens to make me feel like my world is closing in. It's like I'm cursed. Should I not say that out loud? I could jinx myself and there are a lot of ladders here.
Whatever.
Curses, jinxes, ruined days, bad things.....
....Story of my life.
You know?
*sighs*
Annnnnd.....
....the bitterness and cynical-ness is back. Should have figured. I was having a good day, it's not shocking something ruined it. So, now I have to return the faulty DVD set and get another one. Isn't that wonderful? You know, this always happens to me. Something good happens and then something bad happens to diminish the happy feeling. And then something worse happens to make me feel like my world is closing in. It's like I'm cursed. Should I not say that out loud? I could jinx myself and there are a lot of ladders here.
Whatever.
Curses, jinxes, ruined days, bad things.....
....Story of my life.
You know?
Wanted: Escaped Muse
I have recently come down with a pretty serious case of the worst illness in the author's life; writer's block. I can't seem to write anything. Can't focus, can't come up with any ideas and I have a story (a fanfiction) out there on the internet that I promised to update last Wednesday and I haven't even started the next chapter. Doesn't that just suck ass?
Enough whining. Except for the writer's block, today wasn't actually a bad day. I got the first season of Veronica Mars on DVD. Yes, you heard me right, I have recently become obsessed with VM. Don't kill me though, the lead heroine is a kick ass blondie. Reminds me of Ruby from Supernatural. The real Ruby and not that crazy ass brunette who couldn't pass as Ruby no matter how hard she tries (will the real Ruby please stand up, please stand up...). Yes, I happen to be obsessed with Supernatural as well. I am not afraid to admit that, those boys are lickable (especially Dean....mmm...Dean).
In other news, I have recently become a dedicated listener of the song Run by Air. They're a really cool french band and the song Run sounds so creepy that it's awesome.
Well....
....this is kind of strange.
I don't sound like myself today. I actually sound happy and less cynical. What is that about? As a matter of fact, I enjoy being cynical and depressed. What is all this happiness about?
Yeesh.
Enough whining. Except for the writer's block, today wasn't actually a bad day. I got the first season of Veronica Mars on DVD. Yes, you heard me right, I have recently become obsessed with VM. Don't kill me though, the lead heroine is a kick ass blondie. Reminds me of Ruby from Supernatural. The real Ruby and not that crazy ass brunette who couldn't pass as Ruby no matter how hard she tries (will the real Ruby please stand up, please stand up...). Yes, I happen to be obsessed with Supernatural as well. I am not afraid to admit that, those boys are lickable (especially Dean....mmm...Dean).
In other news, I have recently become a dedicated listener of the song Run by Air. They're a really cool french band and the song Run sounds so creepy that it's awesome.
Well....
....this is kind of strange.
I don't sound like myself today. I actually sound happy and less cynical. What is that about? As a matter of fact, I enjoy being cynical and depressed. What is all this happiness about?
Yeesh.
Monday, May 18, 2009
bitter and cynical is the new peppy and happy
Let's see. Who am I? I am Becks Reid (that would be my penname peoples and not my real name). Some would say I am a self-loathing masochist who does not believe in love and thinks happily ever afters only belong in novels. Some would say I am bitter and cynical and will never find a man because I am so mean and horrible.
I do not say that.
I say I am who I am and that's that. Sure, sometimes I can be a little sarcastic and maybe a little mean, but hey! If you can't deal with that then you shouldn't even be a friend. Sorry.
After all, bitter and cynical is the new peppy and happy, right?
I love black and pink and white and all things sour candies. I loathe the Twilight series with a passion, I am going to be a writer someday and my taste in music is very much weird and strange. From Britney Spears to Blue Oyster Cult to Evanescence to Air. Country, Rock, Heavy Metal, Pop, Alternative, Punk, you name it, I listen to it. My mother calls it eclectic. I call it peculiar. My hair is reddish orange, I am fifteen and someday I am going to change this world.
Kisses,
Becks
I do not say that.
I say I am who I am and that's that. Sure, sometimes I can be a little sarcastic and maybe a little mean, but hey! If you can't deal with that then you shouldn't even be a friend. Sorry.
After all, bitter and cynical is the new peppy and happy, right?
I love black and pink and white and all things sour candies. I loathe the Twilight series with a passion, I am going to be a writer someday and my taste in music is very much weird and strange. From Britney Spears to Blue Oyster Cult to Evanescence to Air. Country, Rock, Heavy Metal, Pop, Alternative, Punk, you name it, I listen to it. My mother calls it eclectic. I call it peculiar. My hair is reddish orange, I am fifteen and someday I am going to change this world.
Kisses,
Becks
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