Fuck Off, Dad

“I’m sorry, Dad. But I’m not participating in this shit again.”

I don’t want any part of your stupid fake roof photo idea, Dad. What the fuck are you guys so goddam happy about anyways? “Hey! This is what homeless people do!” That’s not funny, DAD! It NEVER rains in LA. Why would those poor people hold a fucking triangle over their head and smile like a couple of brainwashed Scientologists?

I’m too old for this shit. My brother would be out here. Out from under this stupid fucking cabin thing you’re trying to pull off. Out here in the… woods of our living room..? I guess?? I don’t get it!

No. I have to stop trying to make this make sense. I’m out from under whatever that is, and that’s it.

My brother would be out here, with me, if mom wasn’t holding him back. He could break through her palsied grip, but he’s weak, Dad. Weak in the mind. He gets that from you. He wants mom to love him so bad he’s selling me out and participating in this sham. As if people just sit around in their West Elm catalogue houses holding FAKE FUCKING ROOVES over their heads!!

This isn’t a thing! It’s not funny! Who the fuck plays the game Lets all pretend to be under a roof we’re holding up ourselves indoors?” I’m so beyond confused by this that I can’t even, for the life of me, start to guess what stereotype, or common experience you’re trying to replicate to even make this “joke” work beyond some superficial non-sequitor attempt at absurdity. But even absurdists have to reference some form of reality we all understand in order to highlight the flaws of the institution. What I mean is, the absurd has to have a basis in reality in order to work. Duh, Dad. This is– your oversized hat-of-garbage, or… something? That thing you think we all understand?


I just guess I don’t get it Dad. Maybe we’ll never understand each other. And maybe that’s okay. All I know is, this? This fucking thing you got going on over your head that you think is so goddam cute and silly? It’s stupid, Dad. And I’ve never respected you less.

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