Parade of Horribles + Rain, naturally.

My brain is currently host to a highly energetic Parade of Horribles.

Again.

As usual, there are 76 trombones.  All being played by the uber-talented What’s The Point monster.  He’s got a lot of mouths.  It’s not an attractive sight.

Close behind him are 110 coronets being played by his ugly cousins from Everything is Totally Out of Control-ville.

All the Dreadifuss Beasts have turned out in their finest frippery and fun-loving fury. They are in charge of creating and driving the ever-popular (and ever-changing) “Worst-Case Scenario”  (a/k/a “Vignettes of Inescapable Doom”) floats-made-entirely-of-not-flowers, of course.

Bringing up the rear is the award-winning drum corps, “Drums of Doom” marching in a perfectly depressing formation and playing some kind of funeral march in an entirely unnecessarily cheerful manner.  It’s nothing if not unseemly.

Except nothing is moving.  Because of the baton twirlers.

The baton twirlers are an interesting bunch. 

They look very professional with their sparkly outfits and white boots but they seem to be, ummmm, totally confused + paralyzed and the whole horrible parade is sort of bunched up behind them.

Turns out that just a few minutes into their routine they threw their batons up into the air (as planned), did a few cartwheels and flippy-skirt turns (in order to make catching the batons look practically death defying, of course) and then, horror of horrors, the batons didn’t come back down

True story. 

Every damn sparkly baton is up in the air. Floating just out of reach and apparently entirely uninterested in coming back down.

No one knows what to make of it, particularly the twirler girls.

And it’s raining.

(Which means that the balloon handler-monsters are panicking because the massive “You’re A Horrible Mother/Daughter/Person!” heart-shaped balloon is losing steam and threatening to crumple onto the whole entire parade…)

So pretty much the Parade of Horribles isn’t even parading, it’s just hanging out making a shitload of clangy-chaos-noise and concocting new Vignettes of Inescapable Doom while everyone waits for the batons to remember about the laws of gravity and come back down.

The only *good* news is that the “You’re A Horrible Mother/Daughter/Person!” balloon is so big that it can shelter most of the other horrible things from the rain.  So they can continue to be horrible instead of packing up and going back to wherever they came from.

Always look on the bright side, that’s my mantra.

Ha.

Anyway.

I guess my “theme” for today is that Nothing Is Moving because Everything Is Up In The Air and What’s the Point in Moving Anyway as long as everything is overshadowed by You’re A Horrible Mother/Daughter/Person.

Fuck.

This is depressing.

Even when the parade isn’t moving, I can hear it and it is pretty horrible.  I mean really horrible.  You’ve been warned:

what’s the point?  everything is up in the air, you can’t do anything because nothing matters and whatever you start you will have to stop because something completely out of your control will happen and then you have to drop everything, again, and you can not have anything – no relationship, no job, no parenting, no home, no control over your own time because everything is up in the air, plus you have no money because you suck and you can’t make any money because you can’t get a job because you have a job taking care of your mom and how can you make any time commitments to anything else when your mom needs you but you might as well because you are a sucky caregiver and she’s probably better off alone than with you and everyone knows (especially the RRLM) she doesn’t need you *that* much and you’re just lazy and if you’re not going to have a real job you should at least have everything else under control and not get all moody/distressed about having no control over your time/life because you don’t really have the right to complain, given your complete lack of worth + money.  oh and don’t forget that your son is all grown up now and you suck because you can’t write a check for him to go to college so by definition you’ve failed and he’s entirely too busy to even have a conversation with you, so you must not have made any kind of impact on his life beyond traumatizing him and putting your mom’s needs ahead of his and now you are on the brink of doing it again (but not really because he doesn’t need you Now just like he didn’t need you Then) and you probably will because you think you don’t have a choice because you don’t have any money and you can’t get any because everything is up in the air and out of control.  what’s the point?

I told you it was horrible.

And that is just an excerpt.

The worst part about it is that it is all just Me being awful to Me.

I could never be that awful to someone else, nor would I ever stand by and watch someone else be treated this awfully.

(Heavy sigh)

This has got to change.

And soon.

I’m working on it.

xoxo

kim

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2 Comments

Filed under The Great Anti-Antidepressant Experiment of 2011, Uncategorized

2 responses to “Parade of Horribles + Rain, naturally.

  1. Woo! Heavy shit. And why do I totally relate. Sigh. Let’s get together. Big hugs to you and Mom.

  2. peasnow@msn.com

    Another awe inspiring entry Kimmers! Really really good. Your level of imagination has really broken through thses last few posts – YOU are really having a breakthough here. (I just want to check in here though, you know your son and your mother BOTH adore you! don’t you? i sure do.
    stay in touch. call me w/anything you want to share w/me that you don’t share on your blogg! OK?
    love you,
    irene
    p.s. come down for lunch on thursday and or friday, boss is off, the mice can play!

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