Fantasyland

I sit outside so that I can smoke a bowl and relax and do some writing.

I do not go outside to be bothered. I live in a family that takes it upon themselves to be on a “need to know” basis in everyone else’s business. I don’t like this intrusive behavior. I like to have my own space when starting my day.

I enjoy good company. I enjoy being social.

I enjoy being social with people that don’t make faces when I go outside.

For awhile there, I tried to treat them the way they (still) treat me: by making faces and judgmental comments about them wasting their lives away in front of the “boob tube” or how their eating habits are ridiculous or how they spend money on meaningless stuff…but I wasn’t able to make my point. They didn’t get it. They think I am just being mean (which is what they do to me!) and that I must need to talk to someone about being depressed or something. lol. That is a stretch, but whatever. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions. Not sure how you get “depressed” from “irritated about how I don’t seem to have any personal space around my family and how they behave toward me when they do have me around”.

Now I understand why “eye for an eye” doesn’t always work…cause they (the offenders) don’t usually get the fucking message. In the case of my family, they just use it as an excuse to play the victim instead of using this opportunity to think:

“wow, it sucks when she judges us about our t.v. and food & Shopping addictions. Maybe we should stop judging her. I wonder if it bothers her the way it bothers us?”

But thinking that is just a dreamy ideal.

My Fantasyland, where logic prevails, compassion and understanding for other people’s differences is supported and respected, and most nonconstructive opinions are simply kept to one’s self…well, that simply doesn’t exist just yet.

I will say this about my ex (he who shall not be named), he gave me my space. Even though we spent most of our time in the same room or under the same roof, we still gave each other much needed personal space. He was no angel and our relationship had issues, but I will give him that one.

I think this is important.

Give me my space to think, give me my space to get stuff done, give me my space to recharge, take a bubble bath, smoke a bowl, go for a jog or on a trip or whatever. Give me my space, and I will be happy to give you your space so you are free to be you as well.

The fucked up part about it all is this: If they could just relax and stop giving me shit about being a toker, I would probably enjoy their company more and trust them more as well.

I dunno…maybe I am the only one who feels this way…no biggie either way 🙂

-me

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