Wow. This is effing ironic. The day after Father's Day, I learn that our house is being leased to us by some man who probably doesn't care if we end up on the streets, and possibly would get a kick out of doing that. And the kicker is that my father's been lying and covering up our financial difficulties. Not even my mother knows. I knew we were in financial problems, but I had no idea that they were this severe. And yet, he's allowed all of my siblings, brats through and through, to make him spend money as if nothing has gone wrong. And he now expects me to keep his secret. He insists that everything is okay, when it's clearly not. I can no longer see him as anything else than a weak, skulking man who is putting us in greater and greater difficulties trying to dig us out. The fact that he hasn't even told my mother or myself, his grown, firstborn son, has utterly destroyed me. I drove to my family's parish in desperation. Locked and dark. I have to be there when He wants me, but He's not free when I need Him. I think all lingering attachment that I had to Christianity died in that moment. Everything my father has ever taught me to believe has been burned away in a fire. It all feels like a lie. Honesty and integrity and living within my means. All of it. Spat on a couple statues- the Holy Family, even!- to show Him how little I think of Him now. Forgiveness is for the cowards who can't own up to their sins. Give me a God who punishes. We all deserve damnation. Each of us. All of us. We are the damned. How can any God not reject us? We are scum who lie and cheat and kill and steal for our own selfish pleasure. No one is saved. No one will be. There can be no salvation for the likes of us. Now here's the question: do I start burning my candle from both ends with drugs and sex to block out the pain and exhaustion with life, or do I spite the stupid bastard by living his supposed moral code better than he ever could, and wave my "perversion" in my face to shame him? Raging, hedonistic queen who wants to be everything Daddy hates, or jackbooted Evola fanboy with an all-consuming thirst to prove myself the superior man? Which, which? Now for the punchline: I have to drive with the old fool to a job interview tomorrow. Eff my life.Blow, winds, and crack your cheeks! Time to pick through the wreckage of this farce I call my life. Job must have truly had patience or was a freaking doormat to put up with God's abuse. -Sean
I'm very sorry to hear this, Sean. A very tough blow.
As am I. -A
Post a Comment