/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.6188963]

/lit/ writes a letter to their distant father/mother

[Anonymous No.6188974]

Mom.

Fuck you.

Anon.

[Anonymous No.6188989]

Father, send money pls.

[Anonymous No.6189013]

>>6188963
>expanded the image all the way, read each one
>got down to the bottom right
>just woke up my roommate laughing
Thank you /lit/

Anyway
Dear Dad
I don't blame you for leaving mom, and I appreciate the child support checks and what money you can spare to help me with my classes. Didn't have to cheat on her in advance though you insufferable fuck.
Love, anon

[Anonymous No.6189158]

>>6188963
Dad
I contacted my half sister who you had told me about when I was a child
I was beating around the bush until I had the courage to ask. I asked her if you bettered her mom like you did mine and beat her like you did me. She said no. I.... I didn't know what I wanted to hear. That you batterd her too? I cried dad, i cried. I cried because i didnt know what is was about my mother, i didnt know what is was about me. I didnt know why you loved them enough to leave them but hated us so much that you stayed to hurt us even though you hated us.

[Anonymous No.6189183]

hey mom,

Long time no talk. Well, can you really blame me after you kicking me out? You did give me 400 hundred bucks though, so thanks for that! 400 bucks and a awkward hug out the door at 17. No real place to go and no direction, and you did it all for another man. Some random stranger, some guy you could fuck with dad gone. And where does that leave me?

I will spare you the time i was living on the street. I've got my own place now. I've got an okay job and a car and quite a lot more than i had at home. But I'm still fucked up. I don't know if you will ever understand how painful the cut is. How deep it all went, and how somewhere inside me something very delicate that never heals was ruined. Some artery that carries love and trust to the soul was severed and now I'm stuck wondering when my life will be allowed to move on from one totally destructive act.

All my anger is long gone, i don't really care or expect anything from you. And there is nothing you could do, even then; No sorry or heart felt explanation could help.
Its years of being unable to live alongside others. Never able to be comfortable or feel loved or trust.
Its all very bleak and disappointing.
Its all very childish. It all brings me back to being a seventeen year old boy asking why you are making me leave.
It all brings me back to the shame i felt when i asked you not to. When i said please mom don't.

Maybe if i didn't ask, or maybe if i was a bad kid i could pretend you had to kick me out. Maybe if i smashed something or swore i could say it was all me and that i could do something to fix it and then someone could love me. But, I could never run from what it really was: just a letting go of something never truly cared for.

so, I'm still alive. I will find someone who loves me somewhere. That is my hope.

Thanks for the 400 bucks.


-x

[Anonymous No.6189201]

>>6188963
mom, i ate all the pizza, please come back soon.
i dont have anything to eat anymore as i wasted my last 50 bucks on booze and grandma doesnt want to bring me dinner.
peace out, anon

[Anonymous No.6189242]

Hey dad,

I'm sure we could have great conversations about music and politics like we did the last time we met. The only time in the last 15 years.
But I don't want to do that. I have nothing against you, or your wife, or my step-siblings. I just don't see the point.
You gave me your hair, your laugh, your NAME. And before I hit grade school you were gone.
All I can ask for is money. The child support money you owe my mom which I will use to pay for school. At least you're on another continent so our paths will probably not cross.
I don't want a family because all I ever knew were families that broke, families that hated each other. It's not your fault entirely, but you are an element. I don't want kids because I don't know how to be a father. Again, you are not alone at fault, but you were to first to leave.
You are my blood and I barely know half of my family. Just give me the money, pay your debts, and close the books. Get closure on that drunken party hook-up that resulted in a birth that I, you, or my mother never asked for.

[Anonymous No.6189871]

Hello muddah
Hello faddah
Here I am at Camp Granada

[Anonymous No.6191142]

Dearest Father,

You asked me recently why I maintain that I am afraid of you. As usual, I was unable to think of any answer to your question, partly for the very reason that I am afraid of you, and partly because an explanation of the grounds for this fear would mean going into far more details than I could even approximately keep in mind while talking. And if I now try to give you an answer in writing, it will still be very incomplete, because, even in writing, this fear and its consequences hamper me in relation to you and because the magnitude of the subject goes far beyond the scope of my memory and power of reasoning, to you the matter always seemed very simple, at least in so far as you talked about it in front of me, and indiscriminately in front of many other people. It looked to you more or less as follows: you have worked hard all your life, have sacrificed everything for your children, above all for me, consequently I have lived high and handsome, have been completely at liberty to learn whatever I wanted, and have had no cause for material worries, which means worries of any kind at all. You have not expected any gratitude for this, knowing what "children's gratitude" is like, but have expected at least some sort of obligingness, some sign of sympathy. Instead I have always hidden from you, in my room, among my books, with crazy friends, or with crackpot ideas. I have never talked to you frankly; I have never come to you when you were in the synagogue, never visited you in HOuston, nor indeed ever shown any family feeling; I have never taken any interest in the business or your other concerns; I saddled you with the factory and walked off; I encouraged Sara in her obstinacy, and never lifted a finger for you (never even got you a theater ticket), while I do everything for my friends. If you sum up your judgment of me, the result you get is that, although you don't charge me with anything downright improper or wicked (with the exception perhaps of my latest marriage plan), you do charge me with coldness, estrangements and ingratitude. And, what is more, you charge me with it in such a way as to make it seem my fault, as though I might have been able, with something like a touch on the steering wheel, to make everything quite different, while you aren't in the slightest to blame, unless it be for having been too good to me.

[Anonymous No.6191164]

>>6188963
Jesus fuck this hit too close to home I cant

[Anonymous No.6191186]

>>6189871
kek

[Anonymous No.6191187]

I'm sorry.

I fucked up everything.

I can't go back now.

[Anonymous No.6191189]

>>6188963
Well, I went home with the waitress
The way I always do
How was I to know
She was with the Russians, too
I was gambling in Havana
I took a little risk
Send lawyers, guns and money
Dad, get me out of this
I'm the innocent bystander
Somehow I got stuck
Between the rock and the hard place
And I'm down on my luck
And I'm down on my luck
And I'm down on my luck
Now I'm hiding in Honduras
I'm a desperate man
Send lawyers, guns and money
The shit has hit the fan.