My family, with the exception of my sister, will never support my work. I get it now. I give up, and I won't try anymore...
I was laying everything out in the barrel in the back yard to burn the trash for mom and dad, when what do I find? A short story I wrote and gave them ripped to shreds and crumbled into little balls... I also found a couple copies of the 9/11 poem I did this year that mom practically begged me for. I realize that they are just little pieces of paper to them, but I needed them back... ink is expensive and I can't just print things off whenever I want.
Mom, probably doesn't know, and I'm sure dad will say he didn't realize he was throwing them away. I am tired of sharing with them only to be treated like this...
PS: Mom doesn't like my angry poems... (big surprise) she doesn't think people can relate to rage at the neo-cons and what they are doing to the country I love so much...
They don't understand, and they don't care to. I get it now. No more sharing for me. I have to get on with my life.</
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