Conspiracy of One: Borrowed Ground
At the rate I’m treading, I’ll be lucky if I see another year. I’m pissing off people left and right; some important, some are not. Anywho, my reactions to these awkward situations I’ve been put in probably haven’t been the most correct, most shrewdly undertaken; frankly, it could be stated I lack common sense, or I choose to ignore it. I’ll begin with the good.
School is going well. Pretty much, I can argue that is the only thing that has gone right.
Went over Brandon’s place and pissed off his roommate for reasons even I think are stupid. Meh, that’s one less place I’ll be welcome. I’ll go on the record of saying I’ve offended my fair share of people, but last night, there were warning signs that should’ve been observed. With that said, if a person chooses to smoke weed, then gets emotionally involved over TNA and the Lakers, both of which are factually lost causes, then they deserve whatever fate leaves them. Wanting to fight over Jerry West and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is beyond me. In fact, I should be offended by being introduced to lousy rhetorical discourse. Fuck, I am offended. No one told that tard to be spiritually connected with either matter, nor did I ask to be insulted over trivial reasons. I’ve seen some stupid shit, and I’ve done some stupid shit. However, last night takes the cake. I was smart for leaving first, knowing what it looks like when someone is pushing for conflict. No one uses my own tactics against me. Maybe the guy will fall under mysterious circumstances and I could spit on him as he lays dying. One can dream. And go Celtics…if people would just read the facts, it would make shit easier. Also, it’s just a game.
That was the category of unimportant people I’ve pissed off, and now, here’s the one where I probably screwed up. Mother and I have a problem with my hair, or as I like to call it, she’s imposing on my personal freedoms. I’ve given up on putting extreme effort into my appearance, because I’m comfortable at the moment. Of course, I will be shaving the beard off, but I love watching it grow. Everytime she sees it, she throws a hissy fit over it. I could be a stoner, alcoholic, druggie, murderer, and that’d probably acceptable as long as I’m groomed to her standards. That bugs the shit out of me. I get the idea sometimes that she’s bigoted to an extreme that can only be attributed to being born black in the South. Either way, when we discuss the matter, or more accurately, when she forces the issue and I explain myself, she never gets the idea that I stand for personal freedom of expression before anything else.
Continuing, today is her birthday and Father’s Day. There’s only one of those designations that means something to me; the other leaves me cold and empty, like any other day. When I received wind of a planned dinner party, I asked to be excused. I’m not the person people want to be around at a family event; call it antisocial, but people are happier when I’m not present. If studies were conducted, I’d be right, and I wouldn’t mind it, either. There are other things I can do to occupy time that would benefit all parties. In particular, parties who do not like me, period. Like my sister’s dad. It’s common sense: if I didn’t bother getting to know my father’s side of the family, why would I give two shits about my sister’s side? Even my sister doesn’t like her half. But no, my mother is a uniter, so she thought it’d be great to have people over who detest me. What does that mean?
She denied my request for absence.
Oh boy. That makes things difficult. Seeing as she ripped me for not getting a haircut, this day started off like crap. Then, her guests arrived. Seeing as she felt my appearance was embarrassing and Scherrie’s dad has gone on record stating my displeasure, I’m in my room. I’m not coming out, either. If I went out there, it’d be awkward as hell, and considering the shit with Brandon’s roommate happened this morning, meaning this is all in one calendar day, I’ve had more than my fair share of shit to deal with. My sister came in here and we conversed a bit about the awkwardness; it’s no secret that her dad only likes my mom, and my sister can’t really stand her brother. Lots of food was cooked (I expressed concern), and I’m not going in there to eat until people have left. Scherrie tried to reason with me, but at the end of the day, it’s not my family. My mother came in here to talk, and I knew at that moment, I was fucked. No one seems to remember that I asked to flee the area beforehand. No one seems to understand that I’m not a family person. Hell, that isn’t even MY family out there. She says people are wondering why I’m not out there, and I told her to tell them I’m sick. She passive-aggressively mentions we won’t be having this conversation again. This makes two out of three days that I’ve been lectured/threatened, and I’m tired. I didn’t asked to be placed in this position. As far as being a team player, I bought drinks and ice. Seeing as it is her birthday, I got raped as far as opinion is concerned. Let the record show that on my birthday, I was left completely alone, because I wouldn’t be happy being surrounded by people. In fact, none of my classmates knew unless they were adept at stalking.
Continuing, why the hell did she ask me to bring out the phone? If I did anything to remotely embarrass/expose her, I’d never hear the end of it. This is one of those cases where I was damned from the onset. Screw seeing The Incredible Hulk; I want gamma radiation so I can become the bastard. Skibbedebebop. Much later.
Current Track – Busta Rhymes feat. Linkin Park “We Made It”