Archive for June, 2013

the “H” word

Posted in Uncategorized on June 25, 2013 by darryl zero

After so many years of halfhearted attempts at relationships, either because of lack-of-passion or an inability to actually convince someone that dating me would be a good idea, I finally seem to have hit that convergence of opportunity and availability and found someone I’m crazy about who happens to also be crazy about me. I don’t like putting my relationships on the internet, so I’ll just say I’m hopeful, even though that’s a dangerous word, “hope.”

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microcosm

Posted in Uncategorized on June 20, 2013 by darryl zero

I was driving to work, listening to “Tom’s Diner,” the original, a capella one Vega recorded, and the beauty of its simplicity hit me and I realized that I wanted to be there, and the usual rush of emotion when I know I want to be somewhere other than where I’m at made me smile, and I started crying on the off-ramp because that fucking melody, that swiped, plagiarized, austere, uncomplicated melody will live forever, but for that moment I was at a diner on a city watching Suzanne watch the world go by, and it was a beautiful place.

by the way…

Posted in Uncategorized on June 11, 2013 by darryl zero

I love it when cooning gazillionaire Black celebrities front like they care about oppression like they aren’t contributing to its perpetuity.

Or when hip white people point to them as proof of their actually giving a shit about people-of-color.

ALIEN, by Dimitri Armand

Posted in Uncategorized on June 7, 2013 by darryl zero

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8:14 (92)

Posted in eight fourteen with tags on June 1, 2013 by darryl zero

So another family’s moving into the house in which my mother and (for now) I live.

My mom’s best friend has a better relationship with her than anyone else does, which wouldn’t bother me so much if I didn’t think it often conflicted with Mum’s relationship to the people related to her by blood–namely (but not limited to) my sister (oops, shit–sister doesn’t like being mentioned as being related to me, but I guaran-fucking-tee you she would change her fucking tune if I were successful, so fuck that) and me.

I probably not ought to describe MOZBF’s situation in any detail, mostly because it’s not my story to tell, but I can’t help but call her out for being the opportunistic cunt she is, so fuck it, right?  So she’s a divorcee–probably around mum’s age–whom my mom met in church and immediately took to.  She’s the only one that shares mum’s enthusiasm for puppetry and ministry (which is saying something–I definitely love the former, but find the latter frustrating at best and offensively pernicious at worst), and, since Mum cares more about her puppet ministry than she does anything else, it’s only natural that she feel a particular attachment to her.

It would be easy to say at least one of two things:

1) Mum’s gay, or

2) the relationship Mum has with MOZBF is the reason for my parents’ divorce.

I suspected the first one for a long time until I actually moved back into Mum’s house and realized she’s asexual.  The latter only seems fair when viewed between a fucked-up lens–Twenty-Five’s, to be exact (believe me when I say Mum probably would have been willing to be emotionally attached to my father if he hadn’t spent the majority of their marriage pushing her away, cheating on her, trying to cheat on her, or just plain being a fuckwit).

Anyway, I’ve actually tried to give MOZBF the benefit of a doubt–she made a shitty first impression on me some years ago when I met her by being condescending (I refuse to be condescended to by my intellectual superiors, and when people I’m more intelligent than pull that shit, the rage reflex kicks in).

(Time’s up, but I’m going to continue–)

Long story short, MOZBF can’t make ends meet, and she and her son (a sophomore in high school) are moving in with Mum.

I know I should be understanding, but it’s hard for me to see this as MOZBF willfully exploiting and ingratiating herself into my mother’s life.  I don’t entirely blame MOZBF, either–it’s Mum’s decision, which is the hurtful part: she actually holds this person in higher esteem than, well, me.  It’s hard not to be angry at Mum for this–I’m a fuck-up and a loser, for sure, but that energy should be transferred to my sister, not some bitch.

If Mum actually were gay, this would be a completely different story, and I’d actually embrace MOZBF as a part of my family.

But now, with this cunt’s stuff in my mom’s house, and mom clearing out and purging all traces of even my things to make room for hers, I feel insulted, hurt, and…worthless.

And I know I’ll get over it, because Mum loves me and this is pretty much the only thing she’s ever done that’s hurt me, but there’s something profoundly wrong with this.