So, I've been kicked out of my flat. By my father. Yes.
It's (obviously) been too long since we first started irritating the hell out of each other. It's only been this little game we play, about who would flip out the first and ruin all the fun for the other one.
Had the situation permitted sooner, I would've been out of this place ten years ago. The plan to live in separate flats in the same house obviously didn't have any positive future aspirations.
Not it's funny and I'm not sure whether to be laughing or bumming out.
It's been ages since I've been a bad son, but it's been way longer since he's been a lousy father. I won't start with the stories of my life and the words I've heard come out of his mouth during it either. But for the observer, we're a nice little cozy happy family. Picket fences and all. Everyone knows it's not like that, but everyone believes it.
Being a good boy since I was a kid didn't bring much happiness to me, it seems. Always grounded, always having to apologize, always missing out on all the fun. Never happy.
And now, instead of being awarded, I'm doomed to suffer the rest of my life, choking on this invisible leash I've been remote-controlled by my whole life.
Almost thirty, no flat, no proper job. And now I manage to break my father's heart. Well, he broke mine, but that doesn't count, it seems.
What I know is I'm glad it's finally started rolling - it was obviously bound to happen and if it needed to be done in a not-so-nice way, so be it.
My side of the story will be looking for a flat and a shit job to pay for the rent, struggling at these hard times and trying to make it work without bank loans and all the crap that's making or lives even more miserable. The other side of the story will show me as a horrible, ungrateful son who left his parents when it was the hardest.
Well, yeah, people. Not bitching about stuff doesn't mean it's all peachy and bushy tails.
And we'll see how it goes. I've always wondered how it was not talking to dad. Like that's new.
It's (obviously) been too long since we first started irritating the hell out of each other. It's only been this little game we play, about who would flip out the first and ruin all the fun for the other one.
Had the situation permitted sooner, I would've been out of this place ten years ago. The plan to live in separate flats in the same house obviously didn't have any positive future aspirations.
Not it's funny and I'm not sure whether to be laughing or bumming out.
It's been ages since I've been a bad son, but it's been way longer since he's been a lousy father. I won't start with the stories of my life and the words I've heard come out of his mouth during it either. But for the observer, we're a nice little cozy happy family. Picket fences and all. Everyone knows it's not like that, but everyone believes it.
Being a good boy since I was a kid didn't bring much happiness to me, it seems. Always grounded, always having to apologize, always missing out on all the fun. Never happy.
And now, instead of being awarded, I'm doomed to suffer the rest of my life, choking on this invisible leash I've been remote-controlled by my whole life.
Almost thirty, no flat, no proper job. And now I manage to break my father's heart. Well, he broke mine, but that doesn't count, it seems.
What I know is I'm glad it's finally started rolling - it was obviously bound to happen and if it needed to be done in a not-so-nice way, so be it.
My side of the story will be looking for a flat and a shit job to pay for the rent, struggling at these hard times and trying to make it work without bank loans and all the crap that's making or lives even more miserable. The other side of the story will show me as a horrible, ungrateful son who left his parents when it was the hardest.
Well, yeah, people. Not bitching about stuff doesn't mean it's all peachy and bushy tails.
And we'll see how it goes. I've always wondered how it was not talking to dad. Like that's new.
parents , meh!
ReplyDeleteKao da o mom životu pričaš. Moj stari i tvoj stari bi mogli osnovati neki klub. Ja sam isto dobro dijete koje nikad nije bilo dovoljno dobro. Uvijek sam se pitala koliko dobro je dovoljno dobro...
ReplyDeleteDa, nekad mi ni samom nije jasno u čemu je problem. Ali eto, to valjda tako ide u životu.
ReplyDeleteTješim se (iako to možda i nije baš OK) da ima i onih kojima je gore nego meni...