Daily Archives: June 6, 2011
There is a lawn to mow.
There are pets wanting to feed, and pets wanting to screw up your house or leave it.
There is a love interest at work or napping.
Your kids will be home soon to lay waste to whatever housework you accomplished yesterday. Oh, they’re hungry too.
We have a new war on our hands. We have old ones still on our hands.
Then we have this fuck called “ourselves” that gets up every morning to take note of these things. What does this mean, in real terms? It would seem to me we hate life. Not our bodies, it can’t be that. Life is getting shittier and we all know it. I have to wonder if this is the curse of my, um, generation of chilluns, that a BIG party got thrown called the 60s and now we in the 10s have got to figure out why back then they partied so hard and left us with so little. And now those same folks, who want to live forever(which is fine), do not want or cannot give us anything to sustain us properly like some fucking guidance and a little bit of mercy when it comes to our respective financial disasters we call “bank accounts”.
They tell us tough shit; that’s the breaks very often. But they don’t understand what they are doing now. They aren’t saying the cookie crumbled; they are saying outright “we ate the cookies”.
Sooner or later, my family is going to be eating Ramen for dinner because of the aftershocks of bad financial policy by my elders. That’s a fact, because they’ve also mortgaged themselves to the hilt. Why? They needed some stuff. That isn’t so bad, to need a few things but it is wrong to need them all.
There’s love in everyone’s house. Would it be OK to share that love with the people that are outside it? Is that asking too much these days, to love thy neighbor as you love yourself? Or at least love thy family like you love yourself? They screwed up, but shall we forgive or say nay, family, you don’t get off so easily? The propensity towards generational rifts is shocking. Even in my own family I watch generations fight with each other…over belongings, possessions, filthy lucre everywhere filling the gaps where love should be. Fuckin’ shame, all of it.