Brain Barf

May contain traces of nuts.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Projecting Show

Childhood is inherently lonely.
Very little, if any, control over your life.
Not even sure what this life is about...And what to do with it?
Sure you have parents but they are just for food and owie kissing, if you're lucky.
If you're not lucky, there isn't anywhere you can escape anyway.
Then you get to be a teen.
The relationship with your parents is no longer important, but you're not mature enough to form other healthy/permanent ones.
So your main support system is your peers.
Who are also filled with raging hormones and can turn on you if you're not convenient at any given moment.
So grow up already.
Adults have it ALL figured out.
They are never lonely, lost or scared.
They seek personal fulfillment in perfectly healthy avenues.
They now value their older and wiser elders and parents (especially in the US)
(My eyes just rolled out of their sockets)
Maybe I'm just projecting.

1 Comments:

  • At Saturday, November 19, 2005 8:21:00 AM, Blogger Phoebe said…

    Shifting the Sun
    - Diana Der-Hovanessian

    When your father dies, say the Irish,
    you lose your umbrella against the bad weather.
    May his sun be your light, say the Armenians.

    When your father dies, say the Welsh,
    you sink a foot deeper into the earth.
    May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

    When your father dies, say the Canadians,
    you run out of excuses.
    May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.

    When your father dies, say the French,
    you become your own father.
    May you stand up in his light, say the Armenians.

    When you father dies, say the Indians,
    he comes back as thunder.
    May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

    When your father dies, say the Russians, he takes your childhood with him.
    May you inherit his light, say the Armenians.

    When your father dies, say the English,
    you join his club you vowed you wouldn't.
    May you inherit his sun, say the Armenians.

    When your father dies, say the Armenians, your sun shifts forever. And you walk in his light. ***

    I don't agree with the Armenians. I think I walk in my parents' shadow.

     

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