Why It's So Much Better When Kirk Is Not Here

I really don't like the fact that this is the thesis statement to this situation right now. I would rather Kirk get better or me get better (or both) than for Kirk to just disappear. Below I chose to work out my annoyance, in the moment, with words. Kirk is the husband of my mother and the father to one of my brothers.
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Why it's so much better when Kirk is not here.

Noise Distraction
The TV is not on all the time. In fact, it's rarely on.
All of kirk's loud beeps and email alert sounds and mobile games noises are gone.
Nobody is constantly walking in and out of the front door, totally distracting and fucking up the energy. I started writing this noise section when he walked out the door, and he just walked back in.
No noise from the ice machine in the fridge.
No beeps from the fridge.
Nobody downstairs constantly talking to the goddamn cats.
He just walked out the door again. All of the above happened since he walked in.
Nobody on long conference calls on speakerphone with no regard for the rest of the house (won't keep the conversation inside his downstairs office).
Nobody bringing their work into the living room, where the whole house can hear it.
Nobody drunk grumbling under their voice about how stupid everyone in the house is.


No tension
Nobody whose natural state is "asshole".


No Bad energy
No addicts --a beep on his goddamn phone just now-- in the house. Alcohol, cigarettes, television, distractions.


Nobody who's going to tell you you're wrong, even though they've already tried a million times. And some of those issues, you actually agree with, but they still wanna shove their opinion about it down your throat anyways. No escape. And it's about the same 6 topics every time.


I can't get any work done in this house because of Kirk. He just came back from a three day work trip, and it was the most productive, peaceful time my mother, my brother, and I have had while I've been living here. I had no idea just how much this one boorish alpha male douchebag was destroying my productivity and the progress I'm trying to make in my life. It's no wonder I never feel like I'm getting anything done. My desk and bed are in a large landing area upstairs where I can hear everything going on downstairs unless it's in the downstairs bedroom. And when I say everything, I mean whispers, too.
--he just walked in again--

Honestly, what the fuck?

Why do people live their lives this way?
--beep, crack-crack-crack (fridge and ice)--

--door, he just walked out again--

Every night I am tempted to just go downstairs and lock the door behind him. But even then, if I wasn't distracted by the pressure and guilt, I'm sure there would be plenty of loud noise on the other side of that door, phones ringing, and fights to be hashed.

(3 min of no typing, no distractions, just thinking)

The same situation happened to me when I was living with my father in New Braunfels. The sort of "last straw" where I felt like it was absolutely essential that I get my own place asap, by any means, was the fact that my environment there was so distracting that I couldn't get anything done. My father has a similar ailment, but I think the reasons for my distraction were different. He was distracting, but not nearly as often as Kirk. The quarters were smaller and I was sharing a bedroom/office with my father AND high school brother (from another mother). I could've easily judged that book by it's cover, but I didn't.

Which brings me to my point. Somehow I feel like both situations have been my responsibility. --beep from a phone, how poetic-- Most of the time the godforsaken devices beep when he's not even in the house! I don't even want to know when he's in the house or not! I don't want to keep track of that! But I feel like I have no choice.

Anyways, my responsibility. It's my reality, I'm the one getting distracted, I'm the one with the ambition in this house. I've never been great at tuning things out, but there's gotta be a way to focus in spite of these distractions. I know within me that I have the ability to pursue my dreams no matter what is going on around me. Because everything I need is in me. Honestly, how could I let a few sounds throw me off so much? It seems like they shouldn't have that much power.

Sure, I've been developing my second chakra and it's making me very empathetic, but I should be able to control that, too. I believe I can. I've got to be able to --BLEEP (another device)-- not let someone else's prison imprison me. It honestly doesn't seem like it would be that hard when I think about it. It's kinda ridiculous. I mean how would I ever work in a group or office with other people if I'm so easily distracted. I think I'm more distracted by egotistically clueless people because I'm so opposite of that, and I have such hatred for that level of dishonesty. I just wanna destroy that ego so bad! It's like I pimple, I just wanna pop it. But you can't go around jamming your fingers into self-conscious people's faces screaming, "Jailbreak!"

So I forgive myself for being so fixated on some egos and distracted perhaps energetically by someone's personal prison. I love me for being so about truth and honesty that dishonest egos stick out like a faded pink Mitsubishi.

--just walked back in, fridge, crack, and lets bang the fuck out of everything while we make a snack for ourselves--

(Wrote some stuff on facebook celebrating my acceptance into an art show (https://www.facebook.com/events/1435820823392739/))

--Kirk has walked in and out 3 times, is now inside, now garage door is closing, can't take off his flipflops at the door so now I have to hear his every footstep, whispers to cats, bangs shit around, I assume he's going to bed--

(more fb)

--beep-le-beep--

OK, finishing this up. I am in control of this. I am balanced--well, capable of balancing--against a storm of opposition so long as I pursue truth and life in full faith and love. I will endure. I will be alive. I will succeed no matter what.

And I will own a 1967 Ferrari 250 GTO someday.