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Mar. 2nd, 2012 07:45 amIf the party girl downstairs ever asks me "Jealous?" I'll say yes.
Janna's cool with me posting the power squid pictures. I'll have to pick some out. They're also over 3 years old - the quest for strength has made the muscles stronger and more obvious, but I have not washboarded in some time. "Diet" is slow at best. Not that any of it matters as my face is melting off.
I listen to the same music as her dad (well that plus a Suessian on-beyond-zero collection). I listened to my parent's music, but had my own. My parents told me what to do. My parents were stupid. My parents didn't understand the world the way I did, and my feelings were SO MUCH more important.
I'm old. I've compromised. I've accommodated. I've been beaten down so many times I've learned that some of those times I was wrong. I've learned that I was wrong a lot of those times, and that sometimes when I wasn't wrong neither were "they." I now believe in the rules, even instinctively. I enforce them, preach them. I've become that powerful force, entrenched, that turned my stomach. I didn't sell out - I learned and grew, but what does it look like?
They need new music. They need music that hasn't gone to an office job. They need hope, the belief they are special, something that didn't play in the van on the way home from soccer practice. They don't need the faint cry of rebellion their drab mother taps her foot to when she's told us we have to clear the table before we can watch tv.
Janna's cool with me posting the power squid pictures. I'll have to pick some out. They're also over 3 years old - the quest for strength has made the muscles stronger and more obvious, but I have not washboarded in some time. "Diet" is slow at best. Not that any of it matters as my face is melting off.
I listen to the same music as her dad (well that plus a Suessian on-beyond-zero collection). I listened to my parent's music, but had my own. My parents told me what to do. My parents were stupid. My parents didn't understand the world the way I did, and my feelings were SO MUCH more important.
I'm old. I've compromised. I've accommodated. I've been beaten down so many times I've learned that some of those times I was wrong. I've learned that I was wrong a lot of those times, and that sometimes when I wasn't wrong neither were "they." I now believe in the rules, even instinctively. I enforce them, preach them. I've become that powerful force, entrenched, that turned my stomach. I didn't sell out - I learned and grew, but what does it look like?
They need new music. They need music that hasn't gone to an office job. They need hope, the belief they are special, something that didn't play in the van on the way home from soccer practice. They don't need the faint cry of rebellion their drab mother taps her foot to when she's told us we have to clear the table before we can watch tv.
