ShrappyLog #9 – 12/27/2012

Hey guys, it’s been a while. You’re probably thinking I’ve really had nothing interesting to frag about.

Quite the contrary, I’ve had plenty of riveting events occur in my life in the past week or so. Before I forget, Merry Belated Christmas to you all.

On Christmas Eve, I celebrated Xmas on my mother’s side. It was a blast because we had the whole family attend, even my cousins from the East Coast. I live in California, so it was awesome for them to show up like they did. Secondly, we had a TON of alcohol there. Wine, liquor, beer .. you name it. We ended up getting pretty wasted by the end of the night.

I had made some observations during the event that I wanted to jot down. I remember thinking that everyone in the room was so happy except for me. You see, there’s a difference between being happy and having a good time to me. I’m truly happy when I’m around my cousins(Jabber & and homosexual) and I’m just having a good time when I’m around the rest of the family. I can’t connect with them. I don’t really know them. They know only of what I choose to show them, which is obviously a bunch of stories that continuously flatter my image. Any of you fraggers feel the same way around family?

I thought to myself .. it’s family. Family. The word itself has a sacred ring to it, but during my moments of depression, it’s just a symbol. A symbol that represents a narrowed down community in which we hold the privilege to rely on unconditionally. But if you take out all the mumbo jumbo, sometimes it’s just really an uncle that judges your whole damn character off of whether you have a degree from college or not. Or people that live over 3,000 miles away that you only talk to once a year. Or a successful attorney who would rather not see members of this sacred community fail, because it’s just not in him. But do they really know me? Maybe it’s unfair of me to ask such a childish question. How would it be possible for them to truly know me? They don’t hangout with me everyday, or participate consistently in the hobbies that I enjoy. It’s vice versa as well. I might not even know any of them, which I feel reinforces my point of family being too damn overrated sometimes.

There’s a piece of me inside that just wants to go free. The piece that is begging me to be grateful for even having a family. It’s the sensible way. I think I just need to .. go through things to build some perspective. I dunno, it’s just a phase I guess.

*BOOM* goes Shrappy~



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