huh

huh.
i just realized that on sundays when i have lunch with my family, i feel very obligated to be there. and i feel so obligated because i feel like i'm abandoning them if i do something else. and i feel like i'm contributing to breaking the family apart if i don't go. i never thought about it like this. i'm so afraid of my family falling apart that i feel like i need to be around to make it seem more together. today when a bunch of friends at church were planning on going out to lunch together, i thought (only thought) about going with them and i felt guilty about that idea. how could i even consider abandoning my family like that?

i never realized that's how i felt about it.

i've been listening to la dispute tonight as i did homework. i think these words describe what i would do if there was some thing i could find that was responsible for all this heartache:
"
i felt your sickness brush against my arm as i walked by you--heard your voice but couldn't tell that it was you. and, slowly, watched your sickness slip away into a place that i'd once feared but i was not afraid this time. so i gave chase and found it, finally, slowly feeding from your head, and from my friends, and from my family, so
I grabbed it by the neck.
"for every lover you have ruined..." i dug my nails into its flesh. "...and every life that you have taken..." slammed its head against the brick. its blood poured out onto the pavement, i stirred it in with dirt and spit, "i will take a part of you." i made mortar from the mix. tore every organ from it's body, broke it's bones and fashioned bricks, i laid the mortar in between,
I made a throne for hope to sit.
"Too long you've torn us into pieces, firmly held onto our wrists. Today I bury you in me."
I swallowed every inch of it.
"

vividly violent. powerfully passionate.
it just fit.

but i'm doing alright. truly.

i finshed off that big gulp from last night.
i need to go take care of that now.