Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Oedipus Complex

I'm going to get to writing a story tonight, if I can. I haven't been too intent on my writing lately, and I feel guilty of it.

If writing is the profession I want to do, I must practice, practice, practice.

I gave my A.P. English teacher this year - Mrs. Beaudoin - a copy of "Martha," "The Child," and "The Pig of the Machine (The Desolate Shatter and the Open Plain)."

She told me I am very talented, which really wasn't a surprise. I've been hearing that for a while, and I have confidence in myself as a writer to an extent.

She said I should keep writing. Today I told her I'd give her more of the stuff I'd written, if she wanted. She said yes. So I'll be printing something off for her tomorrow. Not sure what, but something.

Besides the fact that I'm very talented, as a writer (which I'm sure you'd all say to me on some level, too), I feel I have an endless potential that still hasn't been even scratched. I feel I have a lot of creativity that's just not put to use enough.

Above all, I know I'm not a perfect writer. You've all seen me stumble around here. I've written some embarrassing stuff on here.

Lately, my writing's gotten much more succint, to the point, short, less cumbersome. I think it's indictive of the change that's happening in me, as a person, all the time.

For, isn't writing a showcase of the innerself? Doesn't what I write feed off what I feel, and who I am?

This means that who I am is radically changing at this time. Not that it hasn't been like that all the time. But as you know, I'm at the point of my life where I've got large choices to make. Ones that will influence my entire life, from here on out.

I think I'd be fine enough to say this about me and writing: I've improved a lot, and it's easy to see. And I've got a longer way to go with it - I've got my whole life.

Sometimes it's hard to write something. Everyone knows that. And everyone knows that the best things you've ever written are hard to beat, sometimes.

Well, the idea for the story I have is this: A baby is born, and it gets the Oedipus Complex.

Are you acquainted with the Oedipus Complex? I'm not sure. To make it short, it's when a child is two years old, or three years old, and they come to like their parent of the opposite sex much more than the one of the same sex.

So if you had a female child, she'd like her dad. And vice versa.

In the story, the child would develop the Oedipus Complex and eventually kill the father (since I'm thinking it'll be a male), and marry his mother, and have sex with her, force her.

Of course, that means I have to make a story going from when said character is a baby, to when they're an adult, and everything in between that time.

The stimulus which brought me to this idea was reading Sophocles's play, Oedipus Rex.

In the play, we're given Oedipus (the "O" in the name is silent, by the way. So you'd say it just, "Edipus"), and when he's born an oracle tells his mother and father (who are a king and queen) that their son shall marry his mother and kill his father.

So, to avert this, they have a shepard take care of killing Oedpius, and in one way or another, he isn't killed, and eventually does kill his father, and eventually does marry his mother (having children with her).

In Oedipus Rex, Oedipus is a tragic hero, and he finds out all he did, and blinds himself with his mother's (and wife's) brooches. And Oedipus's mother kills herself.

I find this play to be a good inspiration for one of my favorite types of stories. . .those that are morbid and the such.

Hopefully I can write that tonight.

In other news, my dad now lives in an apartment. This has been known to me for a while, I've just not seen any reason to really say it, and I still don't really see any reason.

As much as my parents have given me, I can't stand either of them.

My dad was in fact just now talking to me about the fact that I was using paypal and using his checkings account to pay for things. The fact of the matter is I was ignorant of the fact that I was charging things to his account, because my mom had told me to pay for them using what was on there.

I told him this, and he still went on. He also seems to think I owe him $50 when I do not. I've already written my mom her check for $76, and I've already paid off all I owe for things I have purchased on ebay.

My dad was also away to Denver for a while. He came back yesterday, and I saw him the moment I got from working at the Steak Buffet, sitting in his chair.

Immediately he got on me about the fact that I "don't clean up after myself," and said I should do that. He also said I was "disrespectful" to my mother.

Well, no shit. I'm mad at both of them.

I told him there was one night, when he was gone, when mom had wanted to go see a movie. I had looked at the clock, and it was 10 PM, and I knew the movies had their last showings at 9:45, and that she was probably trying to ploy me so she could go to the bar, while I sat at home watching my brother.

I told her she couldn't go, and then she said she needed to go get some magazines. I countered her quickly and told her if she wanted to get some magazines, she'd ask me to do it since she's too lazy to do it herself.

I then told her I wasn't going to let her go out and get drunk, and that I was going to Ryan's house.

She shoved me out of the house, obviously mad, shutting the door and locking it in my face. That night I stayed at Ryan's. I didn't call her and tell her I was staying the night. I didn't want to.

When I came home, I popped in to grab some money so me and Ryan could go see Resident Evil: Apocalypse. She said I hadn't called her, and I told her that now she knew what it was like when she was gone to all hours of the night.

My mom had apparently said that the above matters were cases when I had been "disrespectful," and so I told my dad all this.

I also told him that the fact that you should clean up after yourself is a pretty principle thing you learn when you're younger, and that I've just been busy between school and working, and I sometimes don't put too much thoughts into some matters.

He said that's no excuse, and I continued arguing with him about it until we finally stopped.

With my dad, I'm annoyed by the way he treats me. He treats me like he always has: as if I'm some lackey employed to him, who's supposed to give into all his demands and be perfect in every single way that he wants me to be.

This involves cleaning my room each day. This involves making my bed each day. This involves that when I clean the bathroom, it's never good enough.

Although it's not too bad, the main annoyance is that he'll chew you out like a boss, as well, and I'm sick of being treated like that.

He doesn't even give me anything for what I'm doing.

You know, I couldn't have my job right now. I could leave it. I could not try at school. I could skip school.

He doesn't seem to care for that fact that I'm trying hard in my life and I'm trying to get my place in this world. He doesn't seem to understand that I'm a pretty good kid, unlike some others who fall into the plague of drugs, or whatever else is out there feeding on the youth, letting them escape from the hardships of reality.

He hasn't came up to me and said, "I'm glad you work so hard at your job, son." He hasn't done anything like that.

When I try to get more freedoms, I subsequently get bitched at and told I'm getting an attitude and being "disrespectful."

Last night I told him straight-up that it's better without him around here, screaming at me all the time about things when I come home from 8 hours of school and 5 hours of work.

I've always been a blunt person. So I just told him.

He said that was also being disrespectful. He said I don't understand all my parents have given to me - food, shelter, and so on.

But I do. And all I want is some recognition. Not something so negative over everything. Not this endless rhetoric every time I see my father about some trivial matter, such as not cleaning my room, being lazy, being disrespectful.

I want to be recognized for the steps I'm taking right now. It doesn't mean I want a prize, or some gold medal for working. Everyone does it. I just want to be treated more like an adult, closer to an adult. Not like some kid, or some lackey employed to some business run by my father.

With my mom, I can't stand her smoking. I can't stand that bitchy way some women get when you're around them. I can't stand the fact that she can't see what she's doing.

While my dad was gone, this Sean guy came over. One of her friends, apparently.

I come home from work, and there's this guy sitting there in my backyard, on the deck in the front. Some guy I don't even know. Some guy my mom's doing who-knows-what with.

I'm not saying it's an affair. Inwardly, that's what I think. It's what all men think. The second there's a woman with someone else than you, or your father, or their husband, that's what you think, as a man.

Putting that aside, what I felt is just aggravated with the fact that there was this guy I've never met in my life at my house. It's just annoying.

I also told my dad I'm sick of what's going on. I said just get a divorce already.

Between this, and other things, I just can't stand my parents most of the time. I consider it the best thing that I get the hell out of here, soon enough. And I could, if I wanted.

They have this progam which makes it almost as cheap to go to the Minnesota college as it is to go here in-state. I might do that. Thing is, it'll cost money, money I don't have.

I'm trying to save, though. It's not working too well, but so far I've saved $75 from my last paycheck, and I vow nearly all of my next I will as well.

It's kind of insane how much college is going to cost, actually. It's depressing.

I don't work today or tomorrow, which is obviously why I had enough in me to make this long post.

It's long-needed, I guess. I need to get down and organize things.

As much as I might think I like chaos, the way the mind works is that it likes things organized. That's the way we are. Without organization of some way, we feel helpless. Powerless. And useless.

There's my psychology for the day to you.

I'm in A.P. Psychology this year. I like it. I'm even considering making Psychology my minor, maybe, in place of Journalism which I've never cared for.

That brings up another thing I've wanted to make a post about. I've got it all planned out, too. It'll be about science.

But that's for another day. I'm off to play some games, and just relax.

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