It occurs to me now that my mom is going to find out that I got her records because she's gonna end up in my living room eventually and it's kind of a lot of records so they're kind of hard to not notice.
And even though I didn't tell her where it is, she's probably gonna find this blog because my sister tells her everything I do because she doesn't understand that I don't talk to the woman about everything the way she does.
So I'm gonna have to have the damn conversation about how she gave all the records to my sister without telling me and I didn't even find out about it until my sister decided she didn't want them and asked if I did. I'm gonna have to listen to her tell me she didn't know it meant anything to me, which would be a LIE, and how she's sorry. And she always ends up crying and then I gotta try and make her feel better because she's all weepy and sad and fuck...
Look Mom, I'm not planning on telling you where this blog is. But assuming you ever find it:
1. No hard feelings. Just... carry right the fuck on.
2. It's not fair to respond to a situation in which you think I'm upset with you because of something you did by putting me in a position where I feel like I gotta make you feel better.
It's a shitty thing to do. It's responding to a shitty thing done by doing a shitty thing. So either just ignore it, like I'm planning to do, or say, "Sorry," THEN ignore it, like I'm planning to do.
I just don't care. Mom, if you ever read this, I don't wanna talk about it. Just look at the pictures.
Nice, right?
Aw Christ, this is not gonna work out well for me. Anyway. Moving right along.
But also, by the way, if you ARE reading this, where the fuck is all the reggae?
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