I had dinner with my mom, grandparents, uncle, two aunts, and one of my cousins last night. You know. The extended family. We all went out to eat and it was very uncomfortable. I stared off into space most of the time. Out of my two aunts, one lives here, the other in California. The one from Cali says "so how are you," to me and I say "alive still, somehow," then she asks how work is going. What am I doing for a job? How long have I been there? "I'm a slave. I've been a slave for, let's see, four years, three months, and twenty five days." End conversation. Change topic. They start to talk about the weather, and more fox-news-depression stories. I get out my phone, due to an overflow of texts/calls. My uncle says "Brian," like I should put it down. I don't. "We're talking," he says. "I'm not. Should I instead watch sports on the bar tv? I don't even like sports. I don't watch tv." Now they're all looking at me. The waitress comes to get our orders. I'm the only one who doesn't get a 12oz+, $18+ steak. You must all feel so elite. My cousin has 3 screwdrivers throughout dinner. I'm the one called an alcoholic. They want me to go to church on Sunday. I guess work is at least an excuse to not have to go sit though worship of a god that doesn't exist while the church asks for more fucking money to help with their growth. Not once did anyone talk politics. Good thing too, or I'd probably have to leave dinner preemptively. Maybe it's because I was at the table? I hardly see those people. I hardly see anyone. They know how I feel about the American government. What they don't know is what I know about the American government. Regardless, they wouldn't listen if I even tried. Fuck I'm alone.
The best quote from that dinner was from my grandma. "You just can't run away anymore can you?" My aunt who lives here says "no." I think yes.
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