The train is always a sad place. You watch people with no purpose try and change their place in the universe; the universe is a treadmill. I wish they would never turn the lights on, darkness is better on the train. When I first started riding it I truly enjoyed it, but now it just makes me sick. The only things I like are those few fleeting moments when you see New York in the distance.
I've been trying to read the Village Voice, but I'm not very entertained by it right now. I woke up in a shit mood, mostly because I woke up to Lauren flaking on plans again. Again is the most important part of that statement. It's partially my fault, I let her treat me like shit.
I still haven't seen Anthony and it's driving me a bit crazy. I really do miss him. We talk on the phone almost everyday. He broke is toe a few days ago, so I know he has to stop his skating lessons (he's a hockey player) which is probably bumming him out. I want to bake him cupcakes or something, you know, I just want to be all girly and take care of him. He'd probably be annoyed that I thought he needed to be taken care of.
I'm going over to my cousin Chris' house tomorrow. He lives with this guy Scott and Scott's girlfriend Ruby. I refer to Chris and Scott as my two dads. They've been friends since college. Almost once a month they basically adopt me for a weekend. They truly are my favorite people.
Yesterday, my dad showed me his switch blade, which was pretty cool. I could here something clicking in his room, pop-pop, pop-pop, pop-pop, and so I got up to here what it was. My dad can be really fatherly, but generally about all the wrong things. In the 7th grade he explained to me what a head shop was. And so we had a discussion about different types of knives. I was saying how a friend of mine is buying knuckle dusters and my father said he had a pair somewhere. In some ways I know my dad is generally a really cool person, yet he still pisses me off to no end. We're way too similar, but sometimes I really do enjoy my dad's company. I occasionally forget that he is actually a cool person, which was a nice reminder.
Well, I'm off to the city to drop off a book for my professor and then some shopping. I'm itching like no tomorrow, but I'm trying to deal. Haha, I'm doing alright.
3 comments:
I know what you mean about dad's being fatherly about all the wrong things. When I was 17 and first started selling, my dad paid us a visit and tried to shame me into quiting by telling me that if I was gonna sell dope I should at least do it right! None of this nickle and dime crap, he would never have dirtied his hands with anything less than a piece. He then went on to tell us that when we had people ODing on our cottons the way he did, then maybe we could call ourselves dopefiends.
What an ass backwards way to try to get someone to quit, extreme reverse psychology. Kinda ridiculous though, we laughed about it for days because he sounded so pompous. Don't get me wrong my dad was a crazy drug slingin' motherfucker but come on. Oh well I love him anyway.
Yeah, when my parents at one point tried to have a "drug talk" with me it just went no where because A) I knew my dad sold drugs in college and B) their main thing was that I was "too young" to be doing drugs (I reminded them that it was illegal at any age). It's funny, they try really hard but I just don't give a crap about what they say. Parents always go about things in the wrong manner, but I guess that's okay. My mother was told by my therapist that I was mainlining, I told her that I had just been lying to the therapist out of boredom, and she believed me. That's the funny thing, my parents have almost caught me stealing and if I just play it off they never bother to question me about it. I don't know why they haven't done something more to change my behavior, if I had a child like me I would send them to rehab (not that that would solve it, but at least get them clean). I love them, they are just way out of their element. I mean, too many signs are all pointing at one thing, but they are either refusing to acknowledge it or waiting 'til it gets really really bad.
my mom was like that, she refused to see what was going on. When she finally caught on it was because it was right in her face and she couldn't ignore it anymore. She, being the ultimate drama queen took to her bed sobbing for 2 days saying over and over, "You are your father's daughter." No shit huh, I'm not the one who married the schmuck.
Later after she had recovered somewhat her main concern was that I not do anything criminal that might upset her and my step-dad's social standing, after all a heroin addict in the family would be soooo scandalous! At the time I wondered what my mom's snotty friends would think about my dad, the scariest skeleton in my mother's closet. I got nothin' on him!
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