a week or so ago, i was noticing and commenting on the conflicting souls i feel fighting for control of my personality. reading it now, it burns a little more than mildly. putting words to action can be so difficult, especially when those words might rock the boat.

standing in the kitchen, listening to how california won a race i didn’t know i was running, all i could come up with was, “it’s ok” and “i understand.” i smiled and laughed and left with “thank you”s and quiet walk on a warm night.

that was whole-heartedly the father speaking and working, saving the bridges over troubled waters. all the while, i could literally feel the boy pounding on his bedroom door just wanting to speak his mind, not in a bad way.. but to fight a little for something he wanted instead of helplessly watching it slip beneath the dark waters yet again. would it really be that awful to show some emotion, some passion for what he desires? all that ever happens to a stoic is, in the end, they all turn to stone.

but the father, not surprisingly, won the evening out. he got to stand there after the dust settled, calmly listen to the boy vent his annoyances and frustrations, disappointments and anger, and say, while the boy caught his breath, “didn’t i warn you about all this? and tell me, what’s the use of being so worked up about it all? if you had kept yourself grounded and had been reasonable about what to hope for and expect, you wouldn’t be upset right now. fairness is not an equation found in the universe. lose your desires and you free yourself from disappointment.”

with a growing pit in his stomach, the boy thought about kicking the father in the shins, partly for being an insensitive ass and partly for being right. instead. instead, he just went back to his room and brooded quietly.

the question now is what to take from this. the boy crosses his arms and puts up his old barriers. thankfully, though, the father can answer rationally, answer with patience, experience, and a bit of tempered optimism.