Punishment for Living

Greetings and Salutations
I have taken much notice lately.. that if my actual day was pretty good, like i had a good time, a few laughs, all that, then on the inside I have a bad day.. I’ll get home and want to hurt myself.. I stop myself half the time, which is a good thing, i suppose. I call it shit luck. I would call it irony, but.. i’m not too sure that’s IRONY… sooo ..

Example: I go to school, in SS Vince actually sits where he’s supposed to (next to me, instead of next to his gf) and we laugh and fight and have fun. In science, me, jamie and gabby talk about something stupid but mysteriously funny, like pudding.. In reading, goof around a bit with matt and desiree and make fun of katelyn.. At lunch hang out with my best friend and laugh a lot and stuffs. In english do something easy but still have fun. maybe even write another smart-ass paper of mine. In TA.. i.. sit here? In tech do a FUN module, and in alg do a lesson i understand.. that’s what i consider a good day.. they don’t happen often, but anyway. I’ll get home.. to find my parents fighting again.. the kitchen a mess (and its my dish night) .. my sister is in her room.. hiding..and my brother, sitting there.. scared as shit of my father. Then.. as the fight progresses.. i get called THE PUNISHMENT FOR HAVING CHILDREN … and even so.. i still don’t know what they’re fighting about. So.. i hide in my room.. go to sleep.. wake up.. see the fighting has ended. My mom’s in the living room sighing or sadly watching TV .. and the “Punishment for Living” (my dad) is in his room.. I do the dishes.. takes an hour.. then I go onto the computer.. Soon after my brothers being yelled at by my father for not doing his homework soon enough. I get off the comp and leave to my room again before he yells at me for being on the comp too long, or that i haven’t done my hmwk either…. The day -as i saw- crashed down, went downhill when i got home. I hate it..

I’m always sitting there.. thinking of creative ways to see my father die.. and usually… everyday i wish we get a call reporting my father’s been killed in a motercycle accident. Or maybe he’s had a heart attack.. Or best yet he was found slaughtered -murdered- by someone… it’d be so nice to go home and never hear another fight again. To never hear/see my father throw stuff at the wall, towards my mother. To never have him scare the shit out of me by plainly yelling.. To never see that man act like he’s a kind man to other people.. but when the door is shut to visitors.. he’s a complete ass hole who has lost the ability to TALK.. and the only ability left is to yell, curse, throw, insult, and give the dogs dog treats and pamper the dogs like how he should with his children -but doesn’t-.

Born again christian my ass. He thinks he’s a christian, he thinks he’s a good man. a noble man towards god. he’s not. he’s a shitty human being.

None the how – i am forced to call him father. I am the way I am, partly thanks to him. I mean, i love the way I am, i think its really me, but.. part of it all.. the spikes, the black. the atheist-ness… its my ‘fuck you’ to my father.

From the words of the The Punishment for Having Children..
—Have a nice day? Period 6 is about to end.. so.. yeah.. bells are stupid.

By DarkSilence

My name is Alex, goth/punk, I live in the fresh hole out of Hell aka Arizona... I've lived in this Hell Hole for nearly half of my life (half would be 7 years); At school I used to be the silent kid, but now all I do is make fun of people around me to their face, in a joking manor. They try comebacks, but it doesn't work, it's terrible fun... I appear happy-I'm not. Nowhere near that over-rated happiness. "People think you're okay, so it's easy to pretend you're okay." (I'm just blabbering so I'll stop?)

2 comments

  1. 2 a : the use of words to express something other than and especially the opposite of the literal meaning b

    3 a (1) : incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result
    thanks m-w.com

    hey, i hear you. over the sumers when i was between the ages of 14-18 i used to mow the lawns while thinking of how i would manage things when i tornado riped through our place and both my parent’s were killed. how i would spend the money, pay off debts they accumulated since he retired, the bad investments, ideas of fortune that fell through just before they would get rolling. how i would finally get the yard leveld and easier to fucking mow. how i would buy the greatest guitar on earth, and buy some studio time to make a demo with just me and my acoustic…….ahhh, the dreams……

    later i thought it would be better if only mom died and dad got remairried to a woman who deserves him.

    everything seems worse when it’s in your face. and being so close to it makes it blurry and distorted. happened to me that way anyhow. now i’ve moved away to college, and i never go home. so it doesn’t seem so bad now.

    i think every man has to do something his father hates, just in order to break away. my “fuck you” to dad is doing things he did, kinda, knowing he regrets doing them. i smoke, just like him, i plan to enlist in the army, just like him, i plan to make a career of it, just like him, and so on and so forth. but the other part of “fuck you dad” is my drinking and music. he has not an artistic bone in his body, soi play guitar and talk about art when he’s around. i listen to pantera or cradle of filth when he comes home or whatever……

    as for christianity…..HA! they were the reason i stopped believing in god, them and my old church. see, until mom moved out i was forced to go to church and be force-fed bullshit about love and hellfire and whatnot. only after the choke hold was released did i get to spit it all back up.

    take it easy, nothing’s permanent.

Comments are closed.