Here there be monsters (socratic) wrote,
Here there be monsters
socratic

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Every Night I pray before the music starts to play that I'll do my best and I won't let you down.

It's father's day.

Hooray.

Yeah...my favorite holiday of the whole fucking year for reasons that probably aren't very hard to glean. My dad never really liked father's day. Well...insomuch as he loathed it, valentine's day, and every other day that had been manufactured by the evil corporate card and candy salespeople for their own personal profit, perverting the meanings of things like parenthood and love into filthy commercial shells of their robust former selves.

Like I said, he was not a big fan of Father's day.

And I never did anything with him for Father's day because he never wanted anything besides one of those cheesy homemade cards that I always hated making because I absolutely suck at drawing, and hey he was always going to be there.

He was ALWAYS going to be there. He said so himself.

I don't mean this as some sort of cheezy "go out and hug your daddy right now" message to stir those of you who have allowed your parental relationships to lapse. I've been told that I'm too preachy and cheesy by the only guy who still reads this thing so I'm going to avoid being preachy and cheesy as best I can. But rather I just want to say that when people wonder why I'm bitter and why I isolate myself and, yes, why I'm such a fucking asshole, well they don't need to look much further than Father's day.

Everything that I hate about the world, everything that bears down on me with crushing force that I can not change can be represented at least in part by father's day.

Hollow sentiment and behavior: Father's day manufactured cards and pre-chosen gifts represent that pretty damned well.

Missed Opportunities: ....no need to comment.

Decisions where both doors lead to damnation: My choice to ignore father's day past still haunts me. If I had decided to try to observe them I would only have aggravated my father. It's a double-bind, as Jeff is so fond of saying.

Sundays: I just don't like sunday. It always feels like the dawn before the execution to me. Give me a friday night or a Saturday over a sunday any day of the week. Without homework I would feel differently, but there is no such thing as "without homework" in my reality. And the TV sucks too.

Summer: I don't like the summer. Too hot and sticky.

The last two might seem to be silly but when you dislike 1 day a week and 1 season a year, that adds up to a lot of unpleasant time.

Anyway Father's day has never been pleasant for me. Last year I spent it crying on the phone to Jeff. Today I have to study but I probably won't, at least not well. I am doing better than last year though, and that's something.

But I can't pretend it doesn't hurt. I'm just glad I didn't go up to the country. Being up there right now would be less than fun. And by less than fun I mean pure torture.
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