If Ever.

Know what? Fuck this shit.
Dad got about a mile outside of Florida before a Georgia State Trooper picked him up. Mom put a warrant out for him for not paying child support. He payed his bail. But he hasn't called since. I don't know where he went. Niether do my grandparents. Or Uncle Hugh. Or Melissa. Or Kenny. Or anyone.
He was on his way to see me.

I get angry easily.
I'm melodramatic.
I have no self confidence.
I have no sense of style.
I have no real devotion to anything.
I don't believe in any diety.
I emotionally abuse my girlfriend.
I have a dead beat father that kills people for money.
I have an ignorant mother that teaches people she hates for no money.
I have a job cleaning up blood and vomit.
Don't have a clue what I'm doing for my senior project.
Slowly deleting facebook friends.
Such a life. I did this to my self.

Now that I've pointed out all the things everyone already knew about. Let's talk about some real shit.

People talk about other people, because they're self-conscious about themselves. They'll argue that all night. They'll make some good points. But deep down it'll bother them. Because they know you're right. They have issues. We all do. Some people just pick on other people's for the sake of distracting themselves from their own issues. The long they don't have to worry about themselves, the better. Maybe it'll work for them.
Maybe it won't.
But I won't be there for them when it all comes crashing down.

You're a slut.
You're a pothead.
You're a drunk.
You're a redneck.
You're a nerd.
You're a jock.
You're a jesus freak.

But; here's what I see.

You were hurt. So you won't care.
You can't deal with reality. So you make your own.
You have things you want to forget. So you forget.
You can't control your life. So you control an animal's.
You don't know anything. So you learn everything.
You're weak. So you want to be strong.
You want to know that there's someone that'll never let you down. So you believe in anything.

Called Sally, Melissa, Kenny, Granny, Pop, Jerylin, and Hugh. Still can't find him. But got to talk to Hugh.

"We put up new walls. Every day. Just to keep the pain from getting to us. But do you know what? It'll get to you anyway. Some people just accept it faster. And you, kid? You've already accepted it. Now you just have to wait. Look at your Dad. He takes lives. I don't know why. I've never asked him. I don't want to know. Because it's his beef with life. Somewhere along the line, he stopped caring about anything. He doesn't give a shit about the money. He doesn't care about revenge for 9/11 or any of that bull. He just does it. Because it's all he knows how I guess. He never really figured anything else out. Straight out of tech college, and into the infantry. That's how he did it. Since 89' or something, I think, he's been raising a rifle, pulling the trigger, and ending someone's life. And doesn't let it bother him. Because he's doing all he knows how. Being a soldier. He's a fighter. It's in your blood. It's all he knows. That's true for everyone. They figure something out, and stick with it, because they haven't figured anything else out. Don't worry about anyone else's issues. Just get your own sorted out. BUT. Be sure of this. He cares about you. He'll call me hot from Afghanistan or Azerbaijian or wherever, and he'll never shut the fuck up about gettin' to see you when he gets back. If one person on this planet loves you. It's him. But it's not just him. That girl you've got, it sounds like she loves you. You just need to say "Fuck It" to all that bullshit they throw at you about it. Take my word for it. I might fight with Cathy every damn day for the twenty-something years of marrige, but at the end I still love her to death. Hell. I'd quit my job and sell the Camaro if I had to to stay with her. If you feel that way about someone. Fight like you're the last fucking human being alive to keep her, him. Whoever. Keep them. Fight. And never stop until you're dead. And as for that bitch you live with? Forget her. She's always been like that. I haven't done a damned thing to her and she's still a bitch to me. Don't let her get to you. Because it's what she wants. It's what they all want. But hey. I got work in the morning. I gotta' go. Oh, and hey! There's not just one person. There's at least two. I love you too Park. Stay in the fight."
My family isn't crazy. My uncle just proved that to me. They're all real straight shooters when they're sober.