you see, in san diego, there are no stars. you, or i, or anyone, can look up, and there may be one or two dots of light in the orange haze that surrounds this city, but i can tell you one thing: those aren’t stars you see.
the funny thing is that no one sees the same thing. my step-father, when he looks up, he no doubt sees the hope of exploration, the hope of a future where the far-off expanse isn’t so far-off. the newcomer to this city would see romance and nights of wild parties.
when i look up in san diego, i see the pale reflection of a night in san luis, where the stars are only outshined by the moon. i see some very warm places, very far away.
i have realized, over the past two years, that the one thing i dislike the most is when i am judged. my grandparents pulled a “you aren’t fulfilling your role as a grandchild to us” speech today, and for the first time in my life, i spoke as honestly as i could, “i didn’t come here for a guilt trip.” and that was that.
maybe the worst part about being judged, for me, is the realization that the worst thoughts people think may, in fact, be right on. that perhaps i, in my reckless stupidity, have betrayed everything that i once believed i stood for. that i have become someone that has made very careless and stupid mistakes with my life, and that i seriously need to rethink things…
but then i realize that i think i’ve got it pretty good, and before anybody brought up any kind of criticism, i was happy with my life. and that, although a measured amount of self-doubt and contemplation can be healthy, that more often than not i let it become prohibitively problematic. my mind shuts down, and i focus on what a mess of my life other people think i’m making.
right now, i’m ready to say: screw that.
let’s set this straight… i love my dad. our family has grown closer over the past few years, and it’s largely because of his efforts to make that a reality. but often times when i come back home, my dad tells my mom about things that i do that irritate him, and i guess he thinks i don’t hear him. like tonight, when i played some rufus wainwright on the computer to help calm down, and he had a calm tirade about how he thinks it’s stupid to listen to new music when most of it is crap… he listened to ten seconds of my music, asked if it was peter gabriel, and i told him it was not, and then he left, stewing over his newfound decision, and then calmly brought it up to my mom…
it continued into a discussion about how he shouldn’t get a cd burner because my mom might spend more time on the computer if he got it.
i have my own criticisms about others. i have let my dad know before about my disapproval of how he treats his family when matters of the computer arise.
three years ago, when i first got my computer, he would be damned if i put the internet on it, or if i even turned my computer on, for fear that the electricity bill would soar through the roof. today, he spends a good portion of his day on the computer, posting on star trek message boards, and making the rest of my family feel that they have very little business being on the computer.
and so, he criticizes the one thing that my mom and i have the most in common, our love for music. and i sometimes wish that he would realize that the one thing that he and i have in common is star trek, which is a bit more pathetic than music (i can admit that). and i wish that he didn’t have criticisms.
i’m sick of being judged. that’s it, that’s all.