Picture Perfect?
Funny story.
My grandmother invited me over for dinner to her house, in Longmont.
Relunctantly, I agreed, because when I go to Longmont, I want to kill myself.
So, I made two new mixes on my iPod for the trip over there:
One dance/happy hardcore mix to life my spirits,
and one ANGRY/FUCKED UP music to help me channel the anger that i was no doubetly going to feel after being in the same city as Kathleen. (the bitch that birthed me)
I packed up a bunch of cute clothes that [do me no good sitting in my closet] would look great on my little brother, and prepared myself with some light music and a ciggarette.
[Plus al these clothes were too big or me, so they'd fit him just fine]
Little did i know, that when my older brother (CJ) asked Kathy to bring over my little brother, so that we could see him, she insisted on INVITING herself over, too.
When I heard this cute little tidbit,
i refused to go.
However, it would've killed my grandmother for me to make promises, and then break them.
So I popped in my iPod,
Put on my happy mix,
and attemped to lift my spirits.
20 minutes later, and FABULOUS wind-blow hair later,
i dismounted CJ's motorcycle,
put out my cigarette,
and marched into my grandma's house,
where the whole [disfunctional] family was waiting.
I didn't say one word to her.
I didn't even make eye contact.
At the end of the [VERY]akward and [VERY] unpleasant evening,
i told my little brother and my grandmother i loved them,
walked past the unloving bitch,
and left.
I never felt so in control, so powerful, or so incredibly full of sorrow,
because she drove me to the point of hate.
I love my mother don't get me wrong,
but call me when :
A.) You're sober
B.) You're a decent human being
C.) You don't make me wish you got an abortion
D.) You're not out to ruin my life, just because mine's better, and you can't even attempt to control yours.
Matty B.
