Then my second thought was "Fuck", I stooped to 1) going onto my mother's website (after searching cyber space for any suspicious postings) 2) posting the actual poem on my blog and finally 3) replying back in bad poetry (not that I can write good poetry
When I logged on though, I had a very thoughtful and nice comment from someone. It was nice to connect with someone who may also understand my situation. Not everyone does you know, and some people can be downright nasty. Noone has done that to me on here, but I go and look on other people's blogs, and I can't believe the lack of empathy from other posters. It often makes me wonder what issues those people have that they can't be kind even if they do not agree.
Not only does it help me to write, but I have quite a bit of fun picking out my pictures for the cast of characters. The evil girl fairy is how I think my immediate trinity thinks of me. You know, since I have been plotting to destroy their marriage for 18 years (that's sarcasm on my part, but something that was actually said to me by my step-monster). Here are the other cast of characters.
My dad is racist and sexist. I haven't been able to fully decide between posting pictures like these or cavemen pictures. Each seem applicable, although my dad looks nothing like this.
The step monster. You will also see evil step mother pictures or witch pictures depicting her. This is also good because she is dressed nice, and even can present nice on the surface. But see how this ladie's eyes are kind of rolled up and her arms are about to go into a fit of rage. That is right below the surface of my step monster anytime. You would need to have lived with her to fully appreciate this. This is the curse of my step and dad, they can present so well on the surface and in public for a duration of time (couple of hours or so).
My mother is bizzaroe. She sees people as a list of labels, likes and dislikes that should correspond with her likes and dislikes. She also sees herself as the Beaver Cleaver of mothers. She did feed, cloth, and shelter me growing up. For that I am immensely grateful, but I draw the line at putting her name in for "Mother of The Year" or allowing her to emotionally abuse me due to her "sacrifice". You know, having me. Having to marry a guy to use him that she didn't love, and blah blah blah.