Sentiment Has Got Me Feelin'

D: Alex. Alex.
A: What?
D: Are... you... com... completely use... useless?
A: Yeh probably. Why?
D: So... you are compl... completely useless?
A: Yes.
D: If... you're not completely... useless, could you could you... do something... for... for me?
A: Yeh, yeh, yeh, what do you want?
D: If you're not... completely... use..useless... could you...if you aren't complete...ly useless, could you... get that bit of... bit of hose from the back of the... the truck, if... if you're aren't completely, uh, useless...
A: (coming back in from getting the hose from the truck. Evidently, he isn't completely useless) Here it is.
D: Thank... you, maybe you... you... aren't completely use...less. Could you... do something else for me? If... you, if you... aren't completely use... useless?

You get the picture. This is what I have to deal with everyday. It is like living with a retard. Every bit of conversation with this thing takes six times as long. Perhaps it has to be translated from Sober Mode to Drunk Mode, sorted out in his head, and then the reply sorted from Drunk Mode to Sober Mode. And THEN there's the difficulty of actually getting the words out of his mouth. Like, dude, how HARD your life must be! How hard done by you are! Blame it on your father, why don't you? Blame it all on that wonderful parental unit of yours. I'll do the same. When I'm lying almost comatose on a cold, hard kitchen floor, I'll blame it on you. When I've flunked my way out of school, I'll blame it on you. When I've hurt every single person who ever made the mistake of caring, who will I blame it on? Tony Blair? Santa? Saddam Hufuckingssein? No. I'll blame it on you. Because that's fair, isn't it? Your father did it to you, you'll do it to me. "I'd never treat my kids the way my father treated me." WHO ARE YOU TRYING TO KID? Are you stupid? Oh, no, wait, sorry. Drunk, was it? Wow, what a change! God, the variety in my life is immense.

Of course I'm fucking angry.

I'm really bored of this, you know? I'm not upset - that stage has been, gone, and disappeared in a puff of booze-stale smoke. I'm not pitying him, he doesn't deserve that. I don't respect him - he doesn't respect himself, how can he expect us to? I don't even hate him anymore. I can't be bothered. I wasted years of my life, crying myself to sleep. You ask us to try to understand you, you want us to see things from your perspective. Well, after over sixteen years of trying to understand, I'm bored. If these are meant to be the best years of my life, I may as well kill myself. If the rest of it is worse than this, what is the point in living?

I shouldn't say things like that. I'm not suicidal. I haven't had a bad life so far. I have the best friends anyone could wish for. I'm not completely thick. I'm not dying of starvation. There are millions and millions of people far worse off than me. Thursday night's events have shown me that I am entirely selfish, blind to the problems and plights of even those closer to me than my family. I shouldn't be so wrapped up in my own 'problems', I shouldn't be so self involved. Hell, I've had to live with this for so long, I don't think I even have much of a right to complain anymore.

You all know a lot more about me now, I guess. More than I want certain people to know. Maybe I'll just delete this.