Mom was just here

We talked. I yelled. Pointed to the stove with orange glowing coals and pointed out thats what it felt like when dad yelled at me. I waved my hands, yelled and looked her in the eyes. Cartoon depictions might have me steaming. For the rest of the time i did not feel like looking at her, wanting to avoid... hm....

When i think of my childhood it seems many of my interactions directly translate to something like the picture.
resistance is futile, you will be assimilated.

go to school = you will be assimilated
get a safe secure job = you will be assimilated
get into such neighbourhood = you will be assimilated

It seems i wont look at my mom because i despise the way almost everything about her is artificial and robotic. She asked me again and again what do you want and it reminded my every time of having guests at our house and pretending everything was okay even though it was not such as the period running up to my beloved sister needing to be institutionalized.

be happy :)