Bullshit

I grew up with an alcohlic father who occasionally showed signs of being sadistic and/or sociopathic. Even when he wasn't being cruel or threatening, the smell of gin made me panic because I knew its potential. I still can't stand the smell. Now, I should also mention that I'm drunk as I type this out awkwardly on my phone's keyboard. But for me, alcohol is enjoyable, unnecessary, and makes me more friendly on average than I am sober. There are so many people in the periphery of my life that are owned by it and transformed in to amplified versions of the douchebeacons they are. One of them was arrested tonight for public intox, leaving my friend (his girlfriend) to figure out who will care for their two kids while she goes to work pregnant with a third. And he spent HER fucking money that she worked for and frantically scraped together for diapers and rent. Him being in jail is preferable to him coming home wasted, since he's prone to violent drunken outbursts.

The violent abusive tendency is another unfortunate vein that runs through my life. I keep getting my hopes up that my friends who are with abusive guys will get out of it, that they'll stick to any of the dozens of claims they've made to kick them out. I've NEVER seen it actually happen. I know it's not directly my problem, but I have trouble sleeping knowing that people I care about are potentially in danger, and there's always someone in that category. Even when it's not one of my friends being abused, it's a huge source of stress. One of my closest friends lives with his brother and brother's girlfriend and hears second hand about his brother being abusive. I see it wearing at him, see his jaw and hands clench at the thought of his brother following their dad's patterns. He wants to put a stop to it but can't do so without going to extreme measures that are hard to justify if you're not seeing something firsthand. I have dreams that my friend catches his brother in the act, beats him to a pulp, and ends up in prison for murder.

Why does this shit happen so much? Why do people let it happen to themselves and their kids? How do these pattens repeat? I can't shake the feeling that I'll eventually lose a loved one to death or jail because of an abusive relationship, and just the thought has me shaking. I'm about to go Batman on some motherfuckers.

bullshit! bullshit! bull-fucking-shit! that is what I wanted to say! I wanted to shout it, to scream it despairingly in your face. all these new values are bullshit, because of you and your people! we wanted to believe! we wanted things to change! you liked the status quo, and that's why it hasn't changed, and the iron fist is clad in lovely velvety bullshit, and you're pushing away the people who cared. you're throwing out the people who could make you great, if only you'd listen to them! and me, but I'm clinging on, just the scapegoat, and in the back of my mind even as I typed my inflammatory common sense, I knew I was the best target. the newest, the young girl who didn't know any better, still full of idealistic zeal and unused to the harsh realities of business. she'll learn, she will bend or break. I will bend today, but only to save those you'd rather break. I bow my head and accept my punishment with grace, seeming meek, calm as a millpond. today. yesterday, I wanted to scream bullshit in your face. I cried instead, abasing myself shamefully, but rest assured it will not happen again. I see through your bullshit now, and I will not be broken.

J--, check the comments box. I know you could write a book, just as I know I could write a book. My problem is, could I write a book that would meet my impossibly high standards for myself? J--, a good, free way to improve your writing is to show it to non-judgmental other writers. I -cough- might know one, if you're interested.