I've got more anger than pictures, and fuck you for wanting to look at something pretty anyway.

Jennie, my sister, told me two days ago that her father (ok, my father too) is marrying Cheryl Phillips.  Her father apparently proposed on the 3 month anniversary of our  mother's death.  Jennie is really upset.  I am not.  I am upset that my father didn't tell me.  I am upset that my father has cut off any place I can go home to.


However, two days (3 days?) prior to her father's proposal to Cheryl, Jennie agreed to invite two boys into her home.  I know one of their names: Crack Payton.  The other kid I call, in the darkest recesses of my mind and heart, retard.  Sure, look at his pictures on my sister's blog:  http://www.best4everfamily.blogspot.com.  That's a retarded kid.

I almost deleted the above because I didn't want to hurt anyone's feelings.  But I'm tired of that.  I've decided that for tonight, I can ignore both my sympathy and empathy.  And if you don't know the difference, then you should take a picture with the retarded kid. And Fuck You For Judging Me.

You know what I have to deal with?  Every day I wake up and live with what/how I think.  I don't need God, I don't need two new kids, and I don't need a new wife.  If I did need God, guess what I wouldn't need:  something to fill a hole.  Because that's what God is supposed to do for you.
Dad:  It's pretty significant that god has always followed the path of least resistance for you.  Keep on moving on.
Jennie:  I wouldn't need to grab two more broken kids just to prove that I could fix them, simply because God can't fix you..
Mom:  I wouldn't die just to fuck me, nor would I say that God wants me to die.  That's what you said.  If that is your god, then I was right in reviling him..
Tim:  I would stop hating everyone so much, because it kills you a little bit, every day.  Even though every hour proves you right...every minute proves you right.
Tim:  I know you are dying to love, and by loving you think you are slowly dying.  That's not true.
Tim:  You don't have the open heart of your sister, nor do you have the closed heart of your father.  So you have to figure out how to be.
Tim:  You don't have the belief of either you father or your dead mother:  that simply means you are stronger.  Your love means more, because it's only yours

I don't need a new mother.  I don't need two retarded nephews.  I don't need a father.  I don't need anything.

But I want my sister.  I really do.  And I will take all of your choices in stride, because I know you will take all of mine in stride.

I don't need you in my life Jennie.

But I want you there.

I love you.

Tim