It sucks being lied to, and it sucks even more when it from the people you think you can trust. The person i trust most is my mom. We are really close it just when it comes to my father, she gets to wordy about things or stories change. Some stuff just doesn't make sense. Today is the day my father died. I think it will get easier each year but it never does. And me not knowing about him i think makes it worse because it makes me think about him more. I have a horrible memory of my childhood, I'm not sure if i block it out as a way to save myself, or what. I know he did some shitty stuff in the past he drank to much did to many drugs, got into trouble. But I'm sick of being lied to I'm sick of this bullshit. Sometimes i think i might be better off that hes dead, i might have turned out differently, or he would be in jail again, and i might end up hating him alot more. So I'm not sure if I'm glad you killed yourself, glad isn't the right word but maybe you did the right thing for once, and thought it would be for the best. The more i find out about you the more i want to know, and i want to hate you. But at the end of the day i still love you and miss you. And it fricking sucks that when i try to get away from it all there you are.
I would like to thank the art museum and whoever wrote the book pine street hotel for reminding me how much my father sucked.
Thanks.
