I Don't Know What to Write
I don’t know what to write. I’m sitting here in a, for the first time in three and a half weeks clean room. My bed is made, my clothes are clean, folded, and put away. My TV is shockingly turned off and I have my playlist of 178 songs playing on the surround sound. Kelly Clarkson’s ‘Addicted’ is playing right now. I love this song, it may be my favorite Clarkson song. I’m really hoping as I’m typing these words right now something will come to me that is entertaining and intellectually stimulating to not only me, but to you, who I am grateful to for reading this sentence as we speak.
My mother called me yesterday and left a voicemail yelling at me for something and told me to call her back. Calling her back would have been insane, correct? Like why would anyone call someone back knowing they would be yelled at? If I had told you I was going to call her back and expect to have a lovely conversation after she yelled at me for 34 seconds in that 58 second voicemail you would have thought I was insane. I wasn’t insane, I didn’t call her back. She called me back 11 minutes later. I then became slightly insane because I answered the phone. Then something magical happened that proved I was in fact, not insane.
My mother was mistaken about the thing she had just 12 minutes prior left an angry message about. Although she didn’t outright apologize for the message, her tone as she was talking to me was soothing and motherly, so I accepted. We fast forward nine minutes into the conversation and she has begun to yell at me. I don’t know if this was her plan all along, to hook me and then once I was hooked, reel me in, either way my mother is a genius. As she was yelling I could feel myself getting fired up in turn.
The thing with my mother is, you CANNOT yell at her, it makes her even more enraged and she’ll blackout and say things you and her will both later regret having heard/said. I never like yelling at my mom. I’m not big on the whole, ‘respect others’ phenomenon, but for some reason I have always felt that it’s extremely disrespectful to yell at a parent. I may have in my entire existance yelled at her two times because there was nothing else I could do. When I feel myself getting heated up I turn my anger into something else, I’m not sure what the emotion is or if it happens to others, but my eyes start to water, and my nose starts to run, a lot, within one-two minutes the water in my eyes start to run down my face like tiny waterfalls.
I don’t know what or why it happens but it does, it happened yesterday. I think my mom feels bad when this happens to me because she knows I’m upset that I don’t know what or where this emotion is coming from (WebMD can’t even figure it out) that it calms her down as well. We ended the conversation eight minutes later on good terms.
I still don’t know what to write.
‘Black and Yellow’ by Wiz Khalifa is playing now. I love this song, it played on an episode of Whitney where Whitney and Alex play a game of one on one. I don’t know if it was the magic of television editing or just her, but Whitney Cummings is a much better basketball player than I’ve ever been.
Still don’t know what to write.
I’m considering drinking a beer. A PBR, if you're curious. Day drinking is the best. I know if I do that I will get lost in that moment of drinking a beer when the sunlight and breeze are pouring into my room. I’ll then look out to my balcony and I’ll see the not too smoggy today blue sky and I can actually see the mountains in the distance. When this happens, a feeling of contentedness will overcome me and it will lead me to open up another one, and then another, and by that second another one, I will be recording myself playing The Wanted’s “I’m Glad You Came” on guitar. So I’m going to withhold from that beer, because that's just not what today is about.
Hmm. Still not sure what to write, I don’t think I have anything in me today.
I am stoked for Weeds and True Blood tonight.
Harvey Danger’s ‘Flagpole Sitta’ is now playing. This song always reminds me of a simpler time for our Katie Holmes.
...........
Nothing. Well guys, sorry. Guess I’m not going to write anything today.
My mother called me yesterday and left a voicemail yelling at me for something and told me to call her back. Calling her back would have been insane, correct? Like why would anyone call someone back knowing they would be yelled at? If I had told you I was going to call her back and expect to have a lovely conversation after she yelled at me for 34 seconds in that 58 second voicemail you would have thought I was insane. I wasn’t insane, I didn’t call her back. She called me back 11 minutes later. I then became slightly insane because I answered the phone. Then something magical happened that proved I was in fact, not insane.
My mother was mistaken about the thing she had just 12 minutes prior left an angry message about. Although she didn’t outright apologize for the message, her tone as she was talking to me was soothing and motherly, so I accepted. We fast forward nine minutes into the conversation and she has begun to yell at me. I don’t know if this was her plan all along, to hook me and then once I was hooked, reel me in, either way my mother is a genius. As she was yelling I could feel myself getting fired up in turn.
The thing with my mother is, you CANNOT yell at her, it makes her even more enraged and she’ll blackout and say things you and her will both later regret having heard/said. I never like yelling at my mom. I’m not big on the whole, ‘respect others’ phenomenon, but for some reason I have always felt that it’s extremely disrespectful to yell at a parent. I may have in my entire existance yelled at her two times because there was nothing else I could do. When I feel myself getting heated up I turn my anger into something else, I’m not sure what the emotion is or if it happens to others, but my eyes start to water, and my nose starts to run, a lot, within one-two minutes the water in my eyes start to run down my face like tiny waterfalls.
I don’t know what or why it happens but it does, it happened yesterday. I think my mom feels bad when this happens to me because she knows I’m upset that I don’t know what or where this emotion is coming from (WebMD can’t even figure it out) that it calms her down as well. We ended the conversation eight minutes later on good terms.
I still don’t know what to write.
‘Black and Yellow’ by Wiz Khalifa is playing now. I love this song, it played on an episode of Whitney where Whitney and Alex play a game of one on one. I don’t know if it was the magic of television editing or just her, but Whitney Cummings is a much better basketball player than I’ve ever been.
Still don’t know what to write.
I’m considering drinking a beer. A PBR, if you're curious. Day drinking is the best. I know if I do that I will get lost in that moment of drinking a beer when the sunlight and breeze are pouring into my room. I’ll then look out to my balcony and I’ll see the not too smoggy today blue sky and I can actually see the mountains in the distance. When this happens, a feeling of contentedness will overcome me and it will lead me to open up another one, and then another, and by that second another one, I will be recording myself playing The Wanted’s “I’m Glad You Came” on guitar. So I’m going to withhold from that beer, because that's just not what today is about.
Hmm. Still not sure what to write, I don’t think I have anything in me today.
I am stoked for Weeds and True Blood tonight.
Harvey Danger’s ‘Flagpole Sitta’ is now playing. This song always reminds me of a simpler time for our Katie Holmes.
...........
Nothing. Well guys, sorry. Guess I’m not going to write anything today.
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