Who's The Man?
Definitely not I says me. I have to step back outside myself, take a deep breath, and admit to myself that shit's fucked up and no matter how I go out and try to deal with it all and act like it's all good it's not. I see myself as having to be strong for everyone and it's getting to me. Chinks in the armor. I think I'm pretty tough, mentally and physically, but I'm not a rock. Time to stop fronting like one.
Everyone's telling me to just let the shit from Bachan's retirement center go. Cuz that's the Asian thing to do. I guess I'm just not that fucking Asian then. I'm pursuing this shit, with the cops and with the governing body of retirement homes in here in Cali.
It breaks my heart knowing we could only come up with one decent dress and a pair of fucked up shoes for the funeral. Not even a pair of stockings or a pair of hose. All her clothing was jacked and I know as recently as my last visit there last week that her closet was overflowing. Not to mention about 70% of her stuffed animals, especially the stuffed tiger that I got her that always rested in her bed. I wanted to put that in her casket.
Shit like this and my lovelife drama has me in a spot where I just want to crawl my ass in a hole or just leave town and hit reset. Too bad life isn't a videogame.
But no. I'm the one that everyone comes to. But where do I go for myself?
Softball wise I shoulda just sat my ass out. I didn't have it and the prognosis on my individual play isn't good. I either have to step it up or sit my ass down like I should have tonight. These past few games (1-7) or even (2-10) if I count the scrimmage we had on the rainout night are taking the shine off my strong start. I need to be born again, get my head straight, and just hit the ball. HARD.
I think everything will get better after the funeral Saturday. Or maybe I just keep telling myself that.
End rant. Play the violins and pass the kleenex.
Everyone's telling me to just let the shit from Bachan's retirement center go. Cuz that's the Asian thing to do. I guess I'm just not that fucking Asian then. I'm pursuing this shit, with the cops and with the governing body of retirement homes in here in Cali.
It breaks my heart knowing we could only come up with one decent dress and a pair of fucked up shoes for the funeral. Not even a pair of stockings or a pair of hose. All her clothing was jacked and I know as recently as my last visit there last week that her closet was overflowing. Not to mention about 70% of her stuffed animals, especially the stuffed tiger that I got her that always rested in her bed. I wanted to put that in her casket.
Shit like this and my lovelife drama has me in a spot where I just want to crawl my ass in a hole or just leave town and hit reset. Too bad life isn't a videogame.
But no. I'm the one that everyone comes to. But where do I go for myself?
Softball wise I shoulda just sat my ass out. I didn't have it and the prognosis on my individual play isn't good. I either have to step it up or sit my ass down like I should have tonight. These past few games (1-7) or even (2-10) if I count the scrimmage we had on the rainout night are taking the shine off my strong start. I need to be born again, get my head straight, and just hit the ball. HARD.
I think everything will get better after the funeral Saturday. Or maybe I just keep telling myself that.
End rant. Play the violins and pass the kleenex.
posted by G Money at
11:57 PM
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