The title of this blog came to me wrapped in hard cookie. A crack later and the fortune spilled into my hand like hot mercury. Such wisdom nowadays comes to me at the end of a meal from someone who probably barely speaks the language they are writing in. I used to have wisdom force-fed to me while kneeling on uncomfortable vinyl and licking the salty pew above me. My sisters took to it with expected ferocity and later on fell in a heap, hair splashed out and disappointment streaming down their cheeks in long black lies as their worldviews were smashed on the rocks. I however took to the world with the first teachings that made sense in the back of my mind at all times; “Question authority.” Everything else fell into line behind that wisdom, and I suffered in the world I was born into because of it.
Blistered tongues lashed out at me regarding the fate of my life while I was barely off the tit about permanent records, attitude problems, my ability to listen, and how meaningless things actually were the most important of all. All of that, I later confirmed, was bullshit. I can now look back on my life and say screw you to the teachers, the sick and twisted nuns, the pedophilic apathetic priests, the selfish and blind parents, and every other nonsensical source of authority in my life at the time. I now feel that the only people who were really interested in my best interests were the sisters who, when not distracted by their own problems, took an interest in the intersection of my life with theirs, probably out of sympathy for their little tortured brother.
If I could, I’d grab that little boy and look long into his scared eyes about the future and inform my earlier self that eventually his suspicions will be confirmed and that he will be found to be 100% correct. Maybe I did or will. For I knew it all along. It just took a few decades to follow it through and for the blog technology to be invented and for that little boy to write about his Cassandra Complex as a 32 year old. But it’s about time.