Moms

Yeah, I'll make this one about moms. Rou read it right. MOMS. Those stupid creatures who overtly obsess over your well being, so much so that you feel like dying just to stop being overtly obsessed over. Really, these females make everyone feel so pitiful about them, that you wish you magically vanish to put them out of their misery. I mean really! Look at these females! They get you out of their vagina, or get themselves cut to get you out into the world. And then what? You wreak HAVOC! EVERYWHERE! So 9 months of carrying you around, and then, another (goodness knows how) many years of dealing with you, till the time they can't do anything with their lives, and then probably more worries about you when their mist-like soul departs their bodies, in case any of that actually happens, and yeah, more of that, and that, and that, and that! You should die!

I sort of hate my mom. Well, sort of. I mean, we all do. Don't we? I don't know. Shit. That came out bad, I suppose. You see, my mom's a do-gooder. She has this internal moral compass that is very compassionate, and caring, and boring, and zzz....zzz...zzz. Huh! Yeah! What?? So she does her things, over-does it from time to time, gives birth to an arsehole, and then to a little bum  to give the arsehole company, and then, puts in every ounce of herself into feeding and porking the arsehole and the bum into the arsehole and the bum the arsehole and the bum have turned into. Amazing. With me yet? Wow! You're smart. It's weird. How these ladies can be so phenomenally stupid! They keep giving birth to arseholes and bums. Just to clarify, the guys are the arseholes. The girls are the bums. I'm not going to explain. Let's just move on.

I wake up, my mom shoves tea in my face. Not like she throws the cup at me and says "Drink it, or I'll shoot you!", but in a very saccharine manner that makes you think that all the world has diabetes. I do realize that a big chunk of this is my fault. I'm 23, trying to make a living as a writer, and living with my parents. Yes, true that this is not a matrimonial ad, but I should probably get the hell out of my house ASAP! I did manage to get 4 years of outside-house-time. But hey!

"I'm Back!" DDhu-DDhu-DDhinn-DDhu-DDhun!(Terminator-II music, if you can pronounce that correctly.) And so is my mom's bordering obsessive compulsion about my well being.

Something that came to my mind recently is a part of my schooling. I was pretty much the straight-laced chap in school. So were most, actually all my friends. So not much of rattling cages for my chaps and me. You remember the "Remarks" column in the school calendars/diaries that we were all given at the beginning of each school year? Getting even a single "Remark" from a teacher was enough to give me existential troubles. To the effect that I felt y mom would disown me if I ever came home with one of these dreaded remarks in my diary. The first time i did get one of them, I don't remember for what though, I came back home, scared as shit, and showed it to my mom, after a lot of apprehension and contemplation. My mom was a bit flustered. Or so, she showed me. But I kind of get a feeling now, that she honestly couldn't have given a shit. I mean, it's kids. We do shit we're told not to. We boo teachers behind their backs. A few unfortunate times, those teachers happen to turn around, only to discover that they are being booed. What can they do at the very most? Eh? Scare the shit out of a kid by writing a note in the kid's diary? But goodness does that trick work! Specially when you're not the mischievous kind. And then, you go crying to mamma, hoping that she'll understand that it wasn't entirely your fault that the teacher was a bitch/arsehole. Yes! That's how we keep our kids petrified, until they are of the age to understand that none of this matters. Thumbs up! *ting*