Isn’t it funny… how everyone feels under valued and under appreciated….
That includes me. I have a major familial inferiority complex. I mean, when you have older brothers like Daxero, Wudan, and the Specialist (in no particular order of greatness) You find yourself wondering what kind of worth you bring into any situation. (forgive me any misspellings, the night time tremors hit me, and they’re getting hard to control) I mean, Dax, he’s a genius at Art. I mean it. He hasn’t been to any professional art schools or anything, but he knows a lot. I mean it too. he’s a freakish genius with both the computer art, and the hand work. It’s amazing…. and I get frustrated because I have all these images that i know could look so beautiful– but don’t ever come out through my retarded hands. They aren’t useful for much. They type, and pick at fat on my body, that’s about it.
Then There’s Wudan. He’s my youngest Older brother (that makes sense right?) and I’ve ALWAYS wanted to be good enough for him. I’ve aspired to traits that he has. I was on Literary Magazine, like him, but I wasn’t an editor, I was on Debate like him, but I wasn’ the captain, I tried collaging like him, and he only says it looks like a frat boy threw up. Like I said, hands are retarded. Very much so…. And I can’t ever be as good as him in anything. God, He was better at a religion he claims not to believe in anymore. I can’t even do that.
The Specialist, I have to admit, is the worst. Not that he’s bad, but i may have aspired to impress Wudan, but I lived to achieve approval from The Specialist. I have to admit, it drove me insane. I couldn’t keep up with his trends, and his music was louder than I was used to…. (I was used to the Little Mermaid, I was like, seven okay?) But I wanted him to say I was okay. That I could hang out with him without my mom having to ask if I could come along. I wanted to be part of the crew. The Specialist, He was an artist to be reckoned with as well. He could argue with the best of them– and I have no clue how he gets all of the facts in his brain to stay there. He knows countless facts and dates and times, and he’s rarely if ever wrong…. Not to mention he puts any of my cooking to shame with his simple chocolate chip cookies….
and I can’t ever be good enough. I can’t ever be part of my own family. I never really have been. I never worked right. Ihad hands that kept me from drawing, or being an artist, my mouth was too slow, and my witty comments misplaced…. All I had were my tears…. and their pity. They took me places– but you knew they didn’t want to. What teenage boy wanted to be saddled with the task of watching his younger sister while at the mall? I don’t blame them…
But the question is, why does it keep going this way, when I’m almost out of my teens, and they’re all well out of theirs? Three of the four of my brothers are married. …. and I have no pleasant memories of my childhood…. except… alone.
Yeah, some things may be hard for The three I named…. I wouldn’t doubt they all have their issues too. I mean, everyone does, right? At least I have the comfort of knowing that most of mine started at home.
Derringer Meryl [I don’t hate you] Out