No, this isn't part two to that last post. There may never be a part two, but I guess we'll both find out in time. For now, these are my thoughts. Enjoy them, or don't.
My mother thinks that I'm a slut because she doesn't know two of my male friends that have been in the house, because I don't always come home at a decent hour, because she thinks I'm like her. It's no use for me to keep crying over her opinions of me, she's going to think whatever she wants regardless of the truth.
This happens when I think I've got things right. Someone, usually family, has to take a giant crap on everything I do and everything I aspire to do. I'm not only a slut to my mother, but a good-for-nothing mooch as well. Apparently because I'm working right now, I'm just going to do nothing for the rest of my life. It's annoying to be constantly put down even when I know that I have much more going on for me than she knows.
I'm just a guest in this house of hers, she says. That if I don't abide by her rules and regulations that I need to find another place of residence. That she'll call my father and make him take my vehicle away from me for bad behavior. That I am pretty much nothing but nobody while living in this house.
It's raining pretty bad outside and I want to take a walk; I'll have my Hello Kitty umbrella overhead and glasses on my face. I'll watch as the rain hits the concrete and think a thousand and one thoughts. I'll wish for Eduardo to be there with me, to listen to me as I ramble on and on about the nonsense that runs rampant in my mother's household. I'll close my eyes and sit criss-cross in the middle of the wet road, just wandering through the millions of files in the office called my brain...
