I am tired of thinking and tired of the drama.
Who invented relationships? Will someone please tell me so I can have a fictional character kick the fictional crap out of their fictional idea. How can I even explain how tired I am? If I sat in a chair and no one talked to me or called me, how long could I sit in that chair, taking in the silence? Two, three days? A week? A month? How long until I decided to move? How long until I felt the need to leave?
I might write a will and leave all my words to the members of this blog. Wouldn’t that be something. What in the world would you do with them? Divide them up? Argue over who got what. I would add a clause that made it illegal to hire legal representation. If you want my words you will have to fight over them. You will have to end up as tired getting them as I did in writing them. By the time you get them home, you will hate them. You will be so tired from fighting over my words that you will put them in a box and try to forget all about them.
Before one of my grandmothers had died, she’d written my mom’s name on the back of a framed picture, intending that my mom would get the picture. Then when she died, one of her sons took the picture, ignoring the name on the back, because he wanted the frame. The picture disappeared, which was what my mom really wanted all along, and the frame now hangs in my uncle’s house, my mom’s name still penciled on the back. The funny thing is, it’s the same bastard who now tires me out with all of his forwarded pro-Bush email. He wants something from me. There is no end, it seems, to some people’s selfishness.
I wonder if I would steal the frame from his house if given the chance. Would I tuck it into my suitcase and smile at him as I walked out the door? Would I thank him for his hospitality? Would I enter his house and pound him with my politics? Would I try to wear him down? Would I try to convince him of anything?
My problem right now is that everyone has become the honorary inventor of relationships. I’m tired and grumpy. If you’re in my line of sight, I will hate you like there is no tomorrow.
Man I need some sleep.