And the alien did decree: "that chemical catharsis"
I tried to call my Mom,
Some people would think that she'd booked it. I think it's just an issue due to her being away from the city her service contract is held at.
Mik wanted to know why I was so hellbent on hearing Mom today. Did I really need a reason?
I don't feel I do.
I think I just wanted to hear her voice. Even if it's tired and impatient. "Y'know, [Al-Am], I need to study..." I could take it.
I told someone lately that my weakness was crying like a bitch in fat guys' arms. Mom is a little of that to me, that chemical catharsis.
She's neither fat, nor very huggy.
But that ain't the point. Mom deals with me, no matter how damn weird I get. And trust me, between us? I get pretty weird.
The thing that isn't apparent from this journal is that I'm not a very charismatic kind of person. I'm annoying as fuck; I long often for my childhood charm, outsmarting the pants off everyone around me.
But: Mom. How this relates: I'm no longer the person she raised.
I relayed this idea through a lot of metaphor in my old journal. Stuff about being an alien in someone's body. So on.
I sometimes hate calling family, mostly because my end of it is very unpredictable. Not even I have any idea of how I'm going to react to things, what things I'll focus on. At least on the internet, I can segue in to asking questions about the other person. In real life, I ramble like a mad fool.
If these entries seem long, or too prolific, it's because I never shut the fuck up.
I have shit on my mind.
Badly type text - Wednesday, Jan. 01, 2020
Yet another other entry - Sunday, Dec. 29, 2019
Damn near died - Sunday, Dec. 29, 2019
Boom Shalacka Lacka? - Saturday, Dec. 28, 2019