I've come to the realization that I cuss a lot. A lot more than normal people anyway. I tend to stress myself out, using the stress to motivate myself to do better work. But now that's just gotten ridiculous. It isn't piling on the stress anymore. I've just gotten friggin' lazy. I wonder how long I'm going to hold out. I've also come to the realization, despite knowing this for a while already, that I'm supremely apathetic. Supremely. Like I would care if people were murdered right next to me, given that I didn't know who the hell the murdered party was. Hell, I'm twisted enough that I might enjoy partaking in the assistance of that homicide. But that's just plain wrong. I still have morals. Sort of.
In any case, how does this tie in with me right now, at this very moment? Well for one, I'd love to to do some premeditated homicide on the Realtor bitch that's selling my Fremont house right now. Yea, I know, selling your house and moving is stressful and not the Realtor's fault. My ass it isn't. Nowadays, just because the market is so shitty, you gotta "stage" your house. You know, you move out all your shit, then these two fine young hags come in with their phoney furniture and fugly wall paintings to redecorate for you. I'm half fucking gay, goddamnit. I would THINK that I know how to decorate my own house. At least my parts of the house. This shitty staging isn't cheap either, it's gonna set us back probably 2 grand. It is SO complete bullshit. But it gets better. Oooooh, yes it does...
Staging the house is no reason for me to be all that angry. Honestly. That sense of apathy has made me a pretty mellow guy. I just spike in whatever I'm feeling as a result. Kind of like, because I'm on a constant low, whenever there's a high, I'm insane. This is kind of like that. The real reason I'm so angry is because my house can't be a home anymore. Staging aside, you know, as long as there's family, and you can still remember good times in it, your house is still a home. But honestly, the combination of Missus Realtor Bitch and the Staging contract, it basically voids all opportunity for me to feel any nuance of "home" left in this place. For fuck's sake I've been away to college for 9 months. I don't even know what home looks like anymore. And to ask me to basically move my existence, in 5 boxes, mind you, out of the house so that those two over-the-hill tramps can "stage" it, is bullshit. I got to sleep on my bed for one lousy night before they came in and staged all this shit. Now, no one can sleep on the beds anymore. We're not even allowed to use the furniture that they're staged. For fucks sake we sleep on the floor. And to push matters past boiling point, the Realtor bitch has the nerve to say "Hey, everything is perfect right, none of your stuff is lying around, right? You've cleaned up the place, right?" We, as a family, have already PAID her Staging company to make us sleep on the fucking FLOOR. She has the nerve to ask whether or not our stuff is lying around, when it's fucking obvious that the house isn't even ours anymore, when we still obviously is. Call it indignant, cuz I feel that. Tell me to suck it up, and I'll tell you that I already have. Then I'll come over to your place, toss out all your shit into your garage (if you have one), and fucking give you furniture you can't use. You can barely even cook in your own house much less use the countertops your house may or may not have. See how much you can suck up.
Honestly, I've never like my family all that much. Because my parents obviously realize this, they're not the most normal parents. In fact, to many poor Chinese/Asian students, I have pretty fucking awesome parents. From my Size-0-wearing-Forever-21-mom to my All-about-Black-labels-dad (complete with purple Pumas and ankle socks), my family's pretty Americanized. I mean, minus the Nazi rule setting, crazy Feng Shui insistence, and lack of technological expertise, they're basically American. Wait, backtrack, the accent, oh yes, they have the accent. My dad was basically what Russell Peters was aiming for. So yea. Pretty abnormal family for Asian standards, but one I've never really dropped the apathy for, despite their normalcy in American eyes. I don't care much for anything I don't represent. That's just me. But for once, I'm actually standing behind my parents 100 percent. My parents let this whole moving thing blow over their heads, so I'll feel indignant for them. Hell, it was as much my home for the past 13 years as it was theirs.
So yea.
In other news, I've been working on Funeral Seven for the past 2 days. There's not much to do in Merced when you don't have TV, much less internet service. So I just worked on this story. Prelude chapter was 13 and a half pages long, at 6700 words. It's only the first chapter too. I can't wait to see what this thing would turn out to read like. I'll be working on that this summer. It'll be like my project. Well, aside from Hip hop, any trying to get into The Camp's during July and FunksSF's during August, if I can pull it off. I'm leaving everything up to chance. I've been doing pretty good with that this year, and I'll keep banking on it until the next new year.
The moment this house is sold, my life's gonna be pretty insane. We'll see what kind of fun I have then.
And the wind brought Clive @ 9:23 AM
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Monday, June 23, 2008 |
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