Meandering Thoughts
I have enough dishware and silverware for four people. This is because my former roommate left them with me. She had them becuase her at the time bank account (who thought he was her boyfriend) Adam, bought them for her. But I'm not going off on Danielle again.
It just occurs to me. I have place settings for four. I live alone, and as far as I know, I will for the forseable future. But...either nothing comes in singles...or more likely, you can't bear to buy a single set of anything. Aknowledging the lack of a possibility of companionship is a descent into madness. I realize, as I think about it, that there is comfort drawn from the things I own that exist to facilitate the guests I don't actually have.
It's odd. I value my solitude above almost anything else. Just being alone (and having something to do) is enough to make any period of time inhabitable. It's that feeling of singularity, of...not quite emptyness, but aloneness. Solitude.
I had one other thing to talk about on an unrelated subject.
There is one button my dad pushes on an irregular basis that instantly engenders a 'fuck you.' from me. This is (almost every time) when he offers me money I need, and then informs me, not requests, demands, or insists upon, but simply informs me, that it means he will have access to my bank accounts to monitor what I'm doing.
I'm sorry. If I'm missing a point of obedience to parental authority then I am in fact sorry. But I'm twenty-four. I've survived this far, and if one thing shows itself true, I'm not a fool when it comes to money. I'm not perfect with it, but then I've never had enough of it to worry about. So when I'm handed cash, and not trusted to do the right thing with it, it's...like a violation. And it's not just that I'm not trusted, it's the knowledge that my sister, who hated, tried to engenier the divorce of, and raged violently against my parents for ten uninterrupted years would get the same money, and nobody would ever ask her what she did with it.
Granted that in spite of her war against my parents, she too, is no fool when it comes to money. But that viscious, hellish, brutal campaign of ugly violence and lies that she waged for a decade has earned her autonomy. My comparitive duitifulness has earned me...what the fuck? Precisely how does that add up? My parents don't bother her with the invasive assumption that they will have inspection rights to her finances because they learned a long time ago to fear her. I was the good kid, and the reward is that the same resources (trying not to sound like the older brother in the prodigal son here), are given to me on condition of compliance with demands they would never dare contemplate imposing on her. In fact I can't be the prodigal in that equation because it's not the same story. In the story of the prodigal the Father is God, God does not reward the unjust more kindly than the just.
To whom much is given much shall be required. And obedience is commanded by God.
OK: Lets resolve this.
I've prooven (I believe) that I'm the nice guy. My sister has prooven that she'll rip your throat out if you do anything that even hints at encroaching on the farthest reaches of her total autonomy (weather or not it actually exists).
For being the nice guy, instead of being given more trust. I'm ordered to submit to inspections on whatever schedule my dad wants.
For being the mean girl, no one would dare ask my sister to do the same.
Sounds like I made a mistake doesn't it?
Obviously, if the situation is anything like what I'm saying it is (and my own coloring of it is not too distortive), what has happened is that my parents have come to assume that not being a viscious asshole, means less resistance. My sister and brother (who, unfortunatly, shares my sister's talent for hellraising), have taught them not that you should crack down on the rebels and reward the loyalists, but that the rebels must be respected for their violence, and the loyalists can be abused becuase they won't revolt.
I plan to put this argument to them. And it's a hard thing for me to do because it's not fair. It's not fair that all three of their kids should need the same kind of resources and support, and that all three of them should, at the same time, demand total autonomy.
But it's not fair of them to reward the people who treated them like shit with greater autonomy than the one who treated them with respect. At least not if they're giving all parties the same resources. Which they do.
But I've hashed and re-hashed this enough now. It's not a just circumstance. And, sadly, it will probably remain unjust for a while. The wickid prosper. I prosper, no doubt, due to some wickedness of my own. One of the Devil's devices is that our sins should give us the illusion of power, reward, and wealth. We are taught to pray (correctly I agree) that "I am the Chief of Sinners".
But it's tough to see it like that, when you tried to be good, and people for whom the thought of trying to be good was as repulsive as incest, are rewarded better than you.
Alexi
It just occurs to me. I have place settings for four. I live alone, and as far as I know, I will for the forseable future. But...either nothing comes in singles...or more likely, you can't bear to buy a single set of anything. Aknowledging the lack of a possibility of companionship is a descent into madness. I realize, as I think about it, that there is comfort drawn from the things I own that exist to facilitate the guests I don't actually have.
It's odd. I value my solitude above almost anything else. Just being alone (and having something to do) is enough to make any period of time inhabitable. It's that feeling of singularity, of...not quite emptyness, but aloneness. Solitude.
I had one other thing to talk about on an unrelated subject.
There is one button my dad pushes on an irregular basis that instantly engenders a 'fuck you.' from me. This is (almost every time) when he offers me money I need, and then informs me, not requests, demands, or insists upon, but simply informs me, that it means he will have access to my bank accounts to monitor what I'm doing.
I'm sorry. If I'm missing a point of obedience to parental authority then I am in fact sorry. But I'm twenty-four. I've survived this far, and if one thing shows itself true, I'm not a fool when it comes to money. I'm not perfect with it, but then I've never had enough of it to worry about. So when I'm handed cash, and not trusted to do the right thing with it, it's...like a violation. And it's not just that I'm not trusted, it's the knowledge that my sister, who hated, tried to engenier the divorce of, and raged violently against my parents for ten uninterrupted years would get the same money, and nobody would ever ask her what she did with it.
Granted that in spite of her war against my parents, she too, is no fool when it comes to money. But that viscious, hellish, brutal campaign of ugly violence and lies that she waged for a decade has earned her autonomy. My comparitive duitifulness has earned me...what the fuck? Precisely how does that add up? My parents don't bother her with the invasive assumption that they will have inspection rights to her finances because they learned a long time ago to fear her. I was the good kid, and the reward is that the same resources (trying not to sound like the older brother in the prodigal son here), are given to me on condition of compliance with demands they would never dare contemplate imposing on her. In fact I can't be the prodigal in that equation because it's not the same story. In the story of the prodigal the Father is God, God does not reward the unjust more kindly than the just.
To whom much is given much shall be required. And obedience is commanded by God.
OK: Lets resolve this.
I've prooven (I believe) that I'm the nice guy. My sister has prooven that she'll rip your throat out if you do anything that even hints at encroaching on the farthest reaches of her total autonomy (weather or not it actually exists).
For being the nice guy, instead of being given more trust. I'm ordered to submit to inspections on whatever schedule my dad wants.
For being the mean girl, no one would dare ask my sister to do the same.
Sounds like I made a mistake doesn't it?
Obviously, if the situation is anything like what I'm saying it is (and my own coloring of it is not too distortive), what has happened is that my parents have come to assume that not being a viscious asshole, means less resistance. My sister and brother (who, unfortunatly, shares my sister's talent for hellraising), have taught them not that you should crack down on the rebels and reward the loyalists, but that the rebels must be respected for their violence, and the loyalists can be abused becuase they won't revolt.
I plan to put this argument to them. And it's a hard thing for me to do because it's not fair. It's not fair that all three of their kids should need the same kind of resources and support, and that all three of them should, at the same time, demand total autonomy.
But it's not fair of them to reward the people who treated them like shit with greater autonomy than the one who treated them with respect. At least not if they're giving all parties the same resources. Which they do.
But I've hashed and re-hashed this enough now. It's not a just circumstance. And, sadly, it will probably remain unjust for a while. The wickid prosper. I prosper, no doubt, due to some wickedness of my own. One of the Devil's devices is that our sins should give us the illusion of power, reward, and wealth. We are taught to pray (correctly I agree) that "I am the Chief of Sinners".
But it's tough to see it like that, when you tried to be good, and people for whom the thought of trying to be good was as repulsive as incest, are rewarded better than you.
Alexi
posted by Alexios at 12:58 AM
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