2004-08-29 - 7:24 p.m.
Take This Life and Shove It!
It’s so difficult to be back at home. The house is a fucking zoo. It’s as if nothing but 7th graders live here—dogs shitting and pissing all over the place; kids running around unsupervised; adults (and I use that word loosely) yelling and shouting at bratty kids; and on and on. On the floor next to the computer that I’m using is a pool of dog urine. The kids told the adults about it, but none of the fucking adults wants to clean it because the dog doesn’t belong to them. The person to whom the dog DOES belong said she’d be back later and will clean it up then.
FUCK!!!! FUCK!!!! FUCK!!!!FUCK!!!!FUCK!!!!FUCK!!!!FUCK!!!!
FUCKING LAYOFF!!!! MOTHER FUCKING FUCK!!!!!! I can’t deal with this!
All of a sudden, there is an emergency bathroom-renovation. Why?
“The floor’s rotted and it’s making it smell like pee around the toilet,” my sister told me.
“The floor is NOT rotted. And it smells like pee around the toilet because the guys keep peeing on the fucking floor!!! If someone would get a mop and some sort of cleaner and mop the floor, it wouldn’t smell like pee!”
I’m told the renovation has been going on for a full week now. There’s no bathtub. There’s no toilet. People have been taking a shower at my sister’s place. The hack who’s doing the job didn’t change any of the pipes. If anything needed to be changed it was the drain pipe that leads from the toilet to the waste stack.
“He said he wasn’t going to change it ‘cause that would be too much work,” one of my brothers said.
“If there’s anything that NEEDED to be changed THAT WAS IT!” I said.
“Well I don’t know,” my brother said sarcastically, “I’m not a plumber.”
“Neither is the guy you hired to do this! This is un-be-lievable!!!”
Does anyone care? HELL NO!
My father is still in his constant state of inebriation. “I thought you weren’t gonna drink anymore,” I said to him a few minutes ago. “I’m NOT gonna drink any more. And I’m not gonna drink any less either.”
YOU SILLY STUPID FUCK!!! Take a bottle of beer and shove it up your ass!
I can’t believe how I let this stuff get to me. I shouldn’t, but I do. Getting drunk seems like such a sign of weakness. Being angry seems like such a sign of weakness. I don’t want to be weak. I don’t want to be drunk, nor do I want to be angry.
It seems like this could all be solved if I just left. But still, that seems like a sign of weakness. I am worried about my nieces and nephews. Everyone seems so messed up. I don’t want those kids to be statistics, yet that’s the way it’s looking right now.
My oldest brother is still a fucking drug-addicted mess. He goes to our house and, because he’s “DEPRESSED,” he goes to a bedroom, where he lies in bed until it’s time for him to go home and go to sleep. His wife seems to be fine with it, as long as the kids stay here with him, and don’t bring her down.
I…want…to…beat…the…shit…out…of…everyone…in…this…house!
It seems futile to even attempt to change anything. Yet it seems weak to just accept everything.
I’m screwed!
