*he said, "sometimes it feels like there's no point," and started to cry. i stared at the snack machine. 2002-06-20 2:34 a.m.*

hey, remember when yesterday i was talking about the confusion in my brain that comes with the lack of things to do in the summer. well, i've found things to do. and things to be confused about, and they're unrelated, even.

i went downtown today, and volunteered at also for awhile, just packing boxes. i ate at the main bar, and look around at the main bookshop. i walked to work past towles court, and actually liked sarasota for a bit.

and then i got to work. somehow i'd managed to go back in time on the walk to work, apparently, because i got there 5 minutes before i'd left downtown. who knows? so i sat outside talking to people, when this couple who knows my dad came in.

"hey your dad got a concussion. did you know that?"

"oh! no! i didn't. when? how?"

"you weren't supposed to tell her, he doesn't want her to worry."

"he didn't tell me that."

and then they went inside.

when i went into work, i asked the guy what happened and he said that my dad fell and hit his head on a coffee table they have.

i was able to sit still for maybe 20 minutes when i couldn't handle it and got up to call him and see how he was.

he told me a different story. his story is that it was a car accident. very detailed, long drawn out story, you know, the way lies are... sorry. um, yeah, car accident, after falling asleep in his car for 6 hours instead of getting gas, and running out of gas in the middle of newtown and getting some christian guy's triple a card, i don't know. car is okay (this is the one he wanted to give me), front wheels busted.

here's the thing...

he got home and his wife was in bed. he told her what happened, but it didn't seem too bad at the time, so he went to go do the dishes.

she woke up to find him with his head in the sink. she performed cpr and took him to the hospital.

so yeah, my dad almost died.

that's always a fun thing to find out in the middle of your work shift, you know? you may have noticed that this is, what? his third car accident in the past year. oh, and it's at least the 3rd concussion he's had since i've been alive.

i feel like i should be more sympathetic about all this, but really, i'm quite sick of it. it's not his fault that he can't stay awake... except it fucking is, you do enough drugs, this is what happens. you lose your ability to function and it surprisingly, doesn't effect just you. and it makes the people around you very very tired.

i feel so worn out right now. my plan for tomorrow was to go to campus and swim and read and do physical things. i think the new revised plan is the head under the covers hiding from life plan.

thank you dad for wounding my ability to function as a human being.

it's cruel it's heartless but it's how i feel right now, and i'm not going to ever tell it to him anyway. it would make him cry, and i hate it when he cries. besides, that's not my role in this relationship. i'm the one whose supposed to cry.

*listening to: *
<<< | >>>

*<<<<<* *<<* *<* | *>* *>>* *>>>>>*
*random* *list*