2004-07-21 - 6:28 p.m.
Now Come the Vultures
The vultures are coming to pick the flesh from the bones of our memories. We knew it would happen sooner or later, and, admittedly, we thought it would happen much sooner. That being said, it's fucked up that it has to happen at all. It's only been a little over a week and my mother's sister wants to come and look through my mother's belongings. She also wants to look through my grandfather's belongings; however, now that my mother is gone, those things belong to us.
Although he should be our first line of defense, my father is useless and in one of his drunken stupors, he initiated all of this. He told my aunt to come. See what being drunk gets you?!? In the "Epigrams and Interludes" part of "Beyond Good and Evil," Nietzsche said something such as, "Blessed are the stupid for they forget their stupidity." Right on, Friedrich!
I keep telling myself this isn't happening, and yet it is. I am not handling this well. I tell myself I'll be strong, and I just get angrier and angrier. She's gone! She's fucking gone and she was our backbone. Now everything collapses. (This is how I know anarchy will never work.)
So the vultures will come. And we will try to politely stave them off. And it won't work. And our father is now our fucked up child. And the nieces and nephews are out of control because their parents were never ready to have them in the first place. That's nothing new 'though. Quoting the Oompa Loompas now, "Who is to blame when a child is a brat?...BLAME IT ON THE PARENTS." Yeah, so your tv is not a baby-sitter. Nor are video games. Dear brothers and sisters, talk to your children. Get them out of the house. Read to them. Do things. Your life is no longer yours. It belongs to them now.
And so we have to deal with what belongs to us now. And keep the vultures away. Lock the doors? Don't answer the phone? Tell it like it is? It's probably not as complicated as I'm making it sound. But somehow, I'm sure it will be.
