gil-schwartzman:

“When all soldiers lay their weapons down,

or when all kings and all queens relinquish their crowns,

or when the only true messiah rescues us from ourselves,

it’s easy to imagine there will be sorrow… no more.”

Back in May, my asshole sister got out of jail. She did 5 and a half years for breaking into several houses in several counties in North Carolina and Virginia with her friends to trade the stuff they took for pain pills.

It almost drove my mom insane trying to keep contact with my sister’s kids. It was hurting her.

Now that my sister is out and got a sweet $15 an hour job through Goodwill, she is back on drugs again. And it looks like she’s going back to jail anytime now for violating her parole.

I don’t want my mom to go through this again but my sister is a hopeless sociopath. She has been staying with mom this whole time to “save money” for an apartment of her own but she has blown it all on drugs, booze and her new friends.

Part of me wishes that she had died in prison.

I think I’ve gotten to a point were I am honestly incapable of being nice to people.

At work, I am so surrounded by cruelty and sarcasm that my first reaction to any human contact is defensive. I feel compelled to either escape, ignore, react with hostility toward any human contact because I always expect them to be mean or insincere. 

Just today I walked into a restaurant and someone said, “Hey person! I like your coat!”. ( I wear a coat covered with patches)

Barely looking at her I just said “thank you” and placed my order. I could hear her and her friends talking about the coat and I thought that they were going to be nasty about it. But to my complete shock, they actually said something nice in their conversation and the girl who initiated contact got excited that I had a pony patch on one of my sleeves.

I met her over by the drink fountain and we started talking. She was rather amazed at the story of how I got it and we chatted a bit. She asked me if I had a facebook and I said no because the truth is that I don’t like putting that much information about myself online, but I should have mentioned Tumblr. We said our goodbyes and parted company.

And then I felt so terribly empty inside. She was a sweet girl and she carried a cane because she was partially blind. I don’t know to what extent. She was polite and curious and I felt that I was not polite enough in return. I hope I did not ruin her afternoon.

I felt I should have been nicer. Maybe ever offered her and her friends a ride so they did not have to walk in the rain. I wonder, is something deathly wrong with me.

Am I that asocial or am I just so used to being on the receiving end of so much torment that I have lost touch with humanity?

I feel sick that I may have been unjustly rude to her and that I could have made a friend for life.

I guess I will never know.

I often have people regurgitating that old idiom “Money can’t buy happiness” at me. 

To which I reply, I have been poor and miserable my whole life. Being rich and miserable would be a nice change of pace. 

Who can claim to be unhappy when they don’t have to work and can, on a whim, hop on a private jet and spend a month or two in Rome or London? They only have one problem: How to spend all that money. 

Maybe two if they are bound and determined to somehow take it into the after with them.