Daddy is a miserable old man.
Thursday, 08/11/05 - 11:05 am.

The whole afternoon in campus, my brother (being the coordinator of the career of psychology) was advising people about subjects they can or can't take this semester. I had no trouble with mine, it took me like five minutes. The rest of the afternoon, I merely killed time, waiting for him, since we come and go together.

When my brother was done, he told me he was craving a hot dog from the movies, so what about we go see that Ashton Kutcher movie, guess who (have I mentioned we get some movies really, really late)? I said sure. And he took me to a mall I swore I'd never go, because an entire forest was destroyed to build it.

The mall is simply obscene, and everything is square. It's all luxury, and a very little percentage of the population can afford shopping there. My brother seemed to be familiar with the place, though, but it's because sometimes he can afford an item or two. He's a big spender, all right, but not burgeois. He's the type of people who'll go for quality over quantity, which is something he learned when he played basketball back in his day. He'd buy the cheapest shoes, and he had to get a new pair every month.

I loved the movie, it was hilarious (I suck at reviewing, and honestly, who needs a review?). I could relate so much to it, because of my dad and Joseph...which actually made me sad, because in my case, there's no way to turn THAT into a comedy. But it made me laugh, and it made me miss Joseph in a weird way...in a "OHMYGODLETSGETMARRIED" way.

Speaking of my dad, things aren't well with him and my mom. BIG DEAL, I say. Things have never been exactly well, they never seemed like a marriage to me. But the problem with my dad is beyond my mom; the problem is that, to him, everybody is the problem, simple as that. My mom goes out to have dinner with a bunch of ladies, and my dad says she's putting aside the family and those ladies are shallow. What a great husband, isn't he?

So yesterday at lunch, he said he couldn't stand the routine he was living and that he was planning on taking a trip to stay with my brother Alan in El Paso, to finish his book. Well, first off, he's the one who insists on having that stupid routine of watching ALL news reports on local TV, which are four, noon and evening. He's bitter about the situation of the country and that's all he talks about. Second, my brother would rip him to pieces. Not because he's mean, it's because he's the only one who dares to tell him everything to his face.

My dad plays the victim, you see. He's been refered to see a psychology thousands of times. Every doctor he sees (for his back, for his lungs, for his skin) says part of the trouble with his organism comes from tension, and have recommended him a therapist. He's not well at handling tension. He's intolerant and impatient, especially with my mom. Plus, he doesn't take care of himself. Nothing that's cooked in the house is food for him; he refuses to drink lemonade or any other refreshment during lunch but coke; he's been told to exercise, just walk, GO FOR A WALK, and he always says he doesn't feel like it.

Ok, FINE.

I swear I can't stand him sometimes. He says he's commiting suicide on credit, and we all go "WTF?". No one can tell him anything, ANYTHING. He turns everything to make it look like he's the poor, miserable old man, or just doesn't pay attention. When he was done with whining at the table, I started to talk, and he left the table. He wasn't even listening to me. Jeez, thanks a lot.

***

I just turned very bitter, so I'll just post this thing I wrote yesterday morning. I was bitter, too, but for other reasons. Bye.

"I remember when war invasion started, there were protests all around the world, and it made me shiver with hope, although I knew it had no effect on the people behind the soldiers. Why don't the people behind the soldiers go to war, anyway?

Live 8 is one of the most useless events I've ever heard of. Poverty couldn't care less about 8 simultaneous concerts. "Leaders of the world" couldn't. And they're not leaders; they're not leading, they're pushing. Plus, everybody on stage has millions of dollars, or euros, or whatever. And by the way, poverty doesn't automatically mean Africa.

Just recently I learned that people in first-world countries refer to first-world countries as "The Free World". Oh. Is that so? Not recently, I learned that calling The United States simply "America" has been a huge mistake through history, ever since second Columbus and first the Vikings came to the continent. But as an animated George Harrison twice said, "it's all in the mind".

I wasn't proud when my country showed up in the middle of bowling for Columbine. It pisses me off what they've done, like it was their bussiness. Shame on you, CIA, for your manuals that contain how to rape women with dogs. But I can answer Michael Moore's question: it's the mentality. And no, it's not nature. That's not fucking natural, it's a social-historical process. You've learned that from generation to generation. Which is equally mortal as having it in your genes, because it's a frame of mind no one will talk you out of.

I opened the newspaper today: a 36 year-old journalist died from cancer, so did a former Rolling Stone. And Mrs. Superman has it, too. All in one page. And then the Hiroshima and Nagasaki disasters, which I consider a vague form of terrorism. It helped us saved lives on the long run. American lives, said the man who dropped the bomb. Oh, are there any other type of lives? That are worth saving?

Terrorists are people who are using their last neurone, if they ever had any. No, sir. It takes a lot of neurones to come up with atomic bombs and twin tower attacks".

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