why can’t things just be simple?

this morning, i awoke in a haze to hearing my parents arguing.  soon my mom left to go to work and i could only manage that somewhat sleeping somewhat awake state.  i was sitting up in bed and my dad walked in.  put his sweaty hand on my back and proceeded to tell me that he was going to work.  “okay, bye,” i said expressionless and without looking.  this is the usual response.  as if i cared that he was leaving.  i shook off the sweaty feeling on my back and was about to write a post about how he annoyed me, but somehow got distracted.  i should have known that this day would have eventually ended up in the gutter. 

by early afternoon, it was decided that my sister and i were going to go on a shopping trip.  this made for a pleasant afternoon.  i love how shopping gets your mind off things, even if for only a few hours.  evening went fine with watching national geographic clips with her.  dad came home at the usual 10:00 p.m.  and everything went downhill from there. 

i had to touch his dirty cell phone to put in some numbers into his phonebook.  then, he started talking to me about him buying a house and renting rooms out.  he mentioned that my name was going to be added.  i was outraged to say the least.  he could have fucking bothered to ask me before deciding.  i told him this.  “i’m asking you now,” he said.  “don’t add my name.” he replied with some excuse.  “don’t add my name,” i repeated.  i asked him other questions, tight-lipped, like isn’t it going to… and aren’t you going to have to… and what if… i was getting more information, but i was not about ready to add some potential problems to my plate.   seriously, what fucking right does he have to assume that i will follow him around all willy nilly, wanting to do the things that he wants to do?  i also have a serious problem with people thinking that i should do certain things because everyone else is doing them, that they seem to be things done out of love when those same people have no problem with taking short cuts and recommend acts that are technically illegal even if minor.  yes, i have a fear of the law.  i am fucking afraid of doing things because i might be caught even though i most likely won’t be.  so quit pressuring me and stop being so damn selfish and ignorant. 

for me, i don’t need many things to be happy, just the important things.  i want and prefer things to be simple.  i don’t need a fancy car, a big house, alot of friends, or a $50,000+ job.  it sounds so cliche, but it is true.  money really just ruins relationships with others and yourself.  all i will be able to think about is the money because i have been trained by my family, by people i know, and by the media because that is what matters in america.  if that is not what they intended, they certainly did a shitty job of it.  i would absolutely be content with having a car that worked the way it was supposed to and got me around, a small house or nice apartment, a few friends, and a job that was enough for my living expenses and to save and a little extra to dine out and shop.  i would want my family and relatives to be happy.  i would be happy with waking up with my boyfriend, going to work on the weekdays, and coming home to him to watch tv or dine out or do something in the city, and on the weekends we would go to the city and have cultural experiences.  the only extravagant thing i would like is to be able to travel.  otherwise, i want things to be simple.  i want my life to be simple. 

so i had two choices, which was either to have every future day anxiety ridden and he get his way or to not have additional issues on my plate and instead, have to look from the hallway railing at his sorry self on the couch watching tv every night.  not once did i look at him.  i can’t ever look at his face.  i chose neither and told him to consult my mom.  he finally left and i was finally allowed to breathe.  only moments later, my mom came home and nothing would go well the rest of the night.  i heard them arguing through the walls.  if only walls could speak, what pain they would show. 

so when will i ever do something that will change the situation?  will i wait until someone gets physically hurt or someone will be killed?  i live in fear that one day i will find myself bloody, not from my own accord, and running from my house, through the backyard, and screaming on a neighbor’s front step that they’re all dead, that i’m the one left alive to tell the story.

hopefully, i am too tired to cut right now.  earlier i thought it was overwhelming.  luckily, i have calmed down a bit in the last hour.  then again, it’s only half past midnight.