May 16, 1995
May 16, 1995
Today would have been 25 years for mom and dad married. Aunt Em said "you know your mother is depressed," I know that. I picked up the phone at 7:30 am to hear you telling my mom to sue my boyfriend, sue mom mom, what about Alana, writing her father letters. That part broke my heart, then hardened it. Listening to my Aunt criticize me for writing letters to my father because I knew he was dying and no one did shit about it.
Hugging him despite his resistance, resistance because he didn't want us to know what wecould see with our own eyes, that he was dying but no one would acknowledge it. And then the dreams where he is alive and healthy and I wake up and think how cool dad is alive! Then you realize that he is not alive. We saw Bad Brain’s in Philly today, I hyped them up SO MUCH to my college friends but they sucked, HR was blitzed out of his mind, they went off stage, he was not signing, they played raggae, people were smoking up, we waited for 6 years to see him and he was a mess. We went to Silk City Diner afterwards, my ex was being a weirdo, the look on his face was the distressed ex face and as we sat at the Diner I felt that my life was a movie everyone was just sitting there in misery after a shitty show and then Nicole started to cry. The whole night was surreal and weird and set the down for some time after.
Christmas – 4 am. I smoked chronic tonight before attending midnight mass! Every time me and her get together we do something illegal, I rolled the windows in my car down and drove with the ac on, even though it was 20 degrees out. I talked to myself through the red lights, my feet were numb and I thought I peed on Kim’s cousins house who had the chronic and got us so high I drove home 15 mps. I rushed home, threw on clothes and tried to look presentable for mass and I am certain everyone in that church knew I was high out of my skull, embarrassing my mom while I talked to myself going up the aisle for communion. I am sure I was quite the sight.
Christmas Day.
Everything always gets weird, I felt proud of myself for avoiding confrontation by closing him off, but by doing that I wasn’t being real, I was not being anything and he deserves more than that. I gave into things I tried to avoid like the taste of cigarrets and sweaty lusty flesh. Instead of spending xmas money on mental health help I worry about clothes, my broken fissures filled with stuff that will break me again, leaving me more separated and hallow than ever.
