Tuesday, July 19, 2016 "Heavy Hands."

Tuesday, July 19, 2016
Week: 49
Songs to Remember:

        Do we drive carefully so that we don't break the rules and get arrested, or do we drive carefully so that we avoid stupid-ass drivers?

        Instead of a peaceful (not that peaceful) drive, 1-hour continuous drive, on the same fucking road, my mom still criticizes me for my driving. Why? So she can be right. She always loves being right. The speed limit here's 25 mph right, and my mom's trying to teach me both, driving for the fucking driving test and regular driving as well. So, if I go 30 mph, she tells me to fucking slow down.

        I go 20-25, you know, the speed fucking limit, and she tells me I need to speed up. I also go a bit slower because my mom will get a fucking heart-attack if I go any faster. There was this one incident in which my mom will probably relay to everybody she knows and meets, including my dad already within 10 minutes of getting home. There was a truck that stopped in the lane at an intersection, like, to the side.

        The driver waves his hand, I didn't actually know what he meant by that, my mom said he was fucking backing up or something. She then tells me to go to the side so he can make a fucking u-turn, I don't know, that was what she said, and so I drive up a bit, to the other lane, in which my mom starts panicking, tells me to back up, I reverse, she gets a mini-heart attack, going "Ooh, ooh" and then tells me to just drive. She didn't explain to me "He's telling us to pass him, so just drive around him if you can."

        Instead, she tells me all that bullshit and this happens. She won't let it go, ever. In fact, after we got home since she said "You're angry, no more driving today" (for fuck's sake, I'm always angry, others would be pissed off as well if she was the one criticizing them for not driving exactly like her habits), she makes a fucking drawing of that incident to explain to me again what to do. Like, a literal drawing. even after all that shit, she doesn't let it go.

        Instead of telling her that I didn't know what the fuck his hand-waving meant and her fucking fiasco instructions, I just let her explain it to me. Again. Just took it all in. Because, she always loves to be right, even when I was like 5, doing fucking homework, she still loved to be right, I still remember examples of that. If you try to explain anything, even your thoughts, your perspective, she thinks you're arguing with her.

        And now you know why sometimes I act like this, like a fucking crybaby who can't grow up, because of years and years of this. I can see why my cousin, the one who stayed at my house during her 1st college year, had enough of this shit and shared rent with her friend at their own place. My mom baby'd her around, doing stupid shit like "Okay, internet only when your room is clean" and other shit like that. She was fucking 18 and older, living on her room, was paying rent for her room at my house, and my mom still acted like she was a child.

        I just can't seem to get the chance to be independent, to grow up, and now my childish habits are too prominent. It's fucking amazing. One day I'm just gonna break and floor it intentionally, so that it'd be all over. And of course, I'm joking, but that is really what it feels like having her in the passenger seat. Just, kill myself. Anyways, don't feel like doing anything today, no motivation whatsoever. See ya.