Sunday, May 10, 2009

I hate my mother (Mother's Day)

I wish there was a card i could send my mother, to tell how much I hate her.

So I woke up sorta pissed and didn’t know why. Then I thought I would go to church because lately I like pretending I believe in some white men resting on a chair in heaven. I know, living my life like its’ B.C.

Anyways, so I woke up early this morning, or the liquor still lingering in my body woke me up. I decided to dress up, and go hear the word. I figure the choir singing would dilute my raging bitterness stirring in my head.

I go to church. I was dressed so Esquire. I wore my Burberry shirt over my Burberry red shirt with my Burberry red tie. It was the ultimate power outfit. Besides. I look really good in red. I should’ve worn white

When I got to church after a brief argument with my soon to be ex, I felt elated. I was sticking to my word about attending church for ninety days. I know how it sounds. I do everything in ninety days just to see if I would like it or if I’m just faking it. I’m a foster kid, orphan, had 17 addresses at 17 years old. I’ve knowm so many people and I knew quickly how to fake with so many people. Therefore, as an adult, I’m have to be realistic if I’m faking or if I’m being real. It’s very difficult. I’ve lied so much, I still believe most of my lies.

Now, I got to church, dressed like a corporate executive who is a part-time model. I sat down. And then I realized the choir was made of mostly women. I felt confused. I knew some queens were pissed about not making the spotlight. I sat down and I was like, what the hell is going on. And then the pimp of the church aka the reverend, preacher, asked everybody to start praying. He said we needed to recognize the women who brought us to this earth. I immediately recognized, a male preacher was talking about a woman’s choice with an all female choir. Something was wrong with the picture like can you guess were Matt Laur is in the world.

I sat peacefully, thinking to myself; maybe I could handle the bullshit. I wanted peace, after a night of drinking and arguing with my soon to be ex; I thought to myself I could stand it. But somebody had to pour salt on the wound. Some woman got up and started singing that annoying Celine Dion song, “u lifted me up.”

I got pissed. I remember how much I hated my mother. She was a selfish bitch. She had always been a selfish bitch. I remember how she beat me when I stole ten dollars from her purse to buy me some shoes at six years old. I didn’t give her the money back. She was never responsible. And it got me thinking about mother’s day, how it’s such a joke to most people. How it’s such a male holiday. Let me give my wife a gift for getting her knocked up. Let me make her pussy wet so I can fuck her like on valetine’s day. I hate how women in this society have to be bullied to believe they have more responsibility for biological mistakes than men. Not all women are made to be mothers. The holiday shouldn’t be celebrated, because nobody gives a fuck about father’s day.

Now, let me be clear. I hate my mother. I wish she was dead because it would be easier to explain her existence. I never liked her. I don’t mind saying it. I don’t mind stupid bitches should say things like she gave me life. She gave me life and made it more difficult. I truly believe some people should not have kids. I am a hardcore fan of abortion. It’s because I know the system and it’s worse than religious fanatics blowing up clinics to save an unborn life. They don’t give a fuck about you after you are born. The worse irony.

I hate my mother. She was a crackhead and a cheap prostitute. She only cared about her next high. If I say my mother today, she would only ask me for money. She started asking me for money when I was born. She is the worse person I ever met.

I hate my mother. I would never celebrate her. I pray for the day when she would finally rot in hell. I said it. Now I feel better.

I immediately walked out of church. I was going to sit there and pretend bullshit. I’ve never celebrated a mother’s day in my life. She was never sober.