For the past two - or possibly three - days, I have allowed myself to be affected by my family's condition and the situations they are in.
It was not a very smart move, but I guess since everything is fine with me, I would automatically look for something harder to solve.
My family has always managed to push my buttons, no matter how. So, I'm thinking of solving that first instead of trying to condescendingly rescue all of them. That would be heavy-handed, indeed.
The encounters and discussions have left me feeling very much alone. I have always been alone, but I guess at the back of my mind, I always thought that my family would share some of my whatever.
I guess part of growing up is realising that one's family, is just another group of people. They may do good things, they may do bad shit.
I didn't understand why I keep on coming back to them. I left when I was 12 years old. I have never been back, in the sense I have never gone back and stayed with them for extended periods of time.
I don't hate them, but there is little that we can relate to.
My brother, for example, is married with three kids. I just don't believe in all that. I don't want to be responsible for other people's lives.
My father, is sick, and made the monumental mistake of having four kids when he's not rich.
My mother is my mother. My other siblings are my other siblings.
Even as a child, the responsibilities are huge. There is no joy in family.
Other than a wonky financial support structure, I find no real reason for families. Other than a result of lust and a night of no condoms. Oh well. These are the cards dealt to me. This is how I play my hand.
In order for me to function, I just need to visualise and compartmentalise. At work, my family does not exist, even though I wear a scowl all day and complain any opportunity I get.
If, in my lifetime, I can destroy the institution of family, I would say that my life was a good one.
Now, off to the daily porn.