Attempt

Monday ▪ November Fourteenth, 2011 ▪ 4:45 pm

Mood: Angry

I never understood the urge to try to convert someone to your own religion outside of a religious debate. 

There I was, eating my chicken at the dinner table and having an alright time. My father decides to spew some bullshit about religion and Christianity towards me, in attempt to convert me back to it. 

I rolled my eyes and kept my face down without a word the rest of dinner. He doesn’t get it. He tells me to be myself and whenever I am he deems it unacceptable. He always wants something to yell at me for or complain about, so he doesn’t ever just let me be. 

Then he wonders what made me so insecure. I don’t know, maybe it’s you. No, not maybe, it’s  almost always been you. My whole life it’s been “but maybe if you were this” or “well if you improved a bit..” I’ve never once gotten a “you did well,” or a “I’m proud.” 

Maybe the problem isn’t me. It’s definitely you.

People wonder why I hate you, and you know what?

It’s because you’re a prick who can’t take a day without smoking a blunt and always wants a reason to complain so you find every little fault in me.

Fuck you.