Freedom and Bad Behaviours

So Today I dropped my mom at the airport for her trip back home, and already her visit seems a distant memory. I feel bad that I haven’t been more patient with her, but I have to say rethinking about the way she behaved, I’m surprised I actually was this patient. The thing is I wish I had let things slide a bit more and not have been so abrupt sometimes. I know she must not have had a great time, but it is partly her fault for behaving so badly sometimes. I really wish she would leave Lebanon and live somewhere where she has to use her brain more and not be stuck in a rot where she reproduces bad behaviours.

Anyway she is gone now and I will soon forget all about this trip and miss her again and look forward to seeing her some time from now. That’s how it is with parents. Also, they have a knack to make you revert to your 15 ear old self and just do things just to be contrary. Many times during this trip I felt the familiar adolescent feelings of anger and angst. Let me give an example that might illustrate what I mean. The first day my mom came she told me that my beard was ugly and that I should shave it. Now, I agree and in fact I was going to shave it that night. But the way in which she said it just made me not want to. And so throughout this whole trip I refused to shave my beard, even though it is annoying and irritating. Now I’m 30 and I should know better, but sometimes you just have to take a pointless stand.

After she left I had a very nice lunch at Yo Sushi in St Pancras, and was able to unwind a bit. All of the tension and frustration that I built up in those two weeks was released and I was feeling better. The train ride was a bit annoying. I was in the quiet coach on the train, I think you see where this is going. A bunch of young kids, who turned out to be privileged twats, were on their way to some kind of wedding I think, because they had a bunch of clothes in upright bags, got on. They were talking on their phones and being loud and obnoxious the whole trip. I was okay as I was sat a bit further away from them and so was able to read my book. After a while a guy sat just in front of them told them off, and they reacted in the way privileged twats react, by being rude to him. I stepped in and told them off as well, explaining to them that they were being rude and obnoxious and that if they could read, there were signs everywhere telling them to be quiet.

I had gone to get some water earlier and realised that the not quiet coaches were a lot quieter than the quiet coach, which is just wrong. As we were telling them off one of them, who thought she was really smart, said that we were being inconsistent since we were being loud by telling them off. What a horrible little cock she is. You know what? I just don’t understand the sheer chutzpah that these kids exhibit. For fuck’s sake, you are in a quiet coach being loud and someone says be quiet, you fucking say sorry and shut up. But they didn’t see it this way. Their fucking cushioned lives taught them that the laws of acceptable social behaviour don’t really apply to them, because they’re dady’s and momy’s little princesses and princes. Well They’re fucking arseholes and there is no reason why we should put up with them and they’re bad behaviour.

Surprisingly though I wasn’t negatively affected by that encounter. I usually get very upset by this kind of confrontation and my stomach hurts afterwards and I’m all shaken up. For example, I remember being approached by a lady selling dead sea cosmetics in a shopping centre and telling her that I wasn’t interested because I boycott israeli products and products made in the settlements. I remember her shouting ‘ignorant’ after me. I just felt awful, even though I was the one in the right and she was a fucking bitch selling stolen property. This time though I was fine, in fact I felt good about backing up someone who had the guts to stand up for politeness and good social behaviour on a train. I think people need to be more staunch in their refusal of rudeness and bad behaviour in public spaces, as long as the people who are being badly behaved don’t seem to have knifes.

When I got back I ran into C who I haven’t seen in a very long time. We hung out a bit and exchanged stories. She is a very nice woman and I really enjoy her company. I should really make more of an effort to see her. She was very sympathetic and empathised a lot with my mom stories. It’s just always nice to swap parents stories with friends and let off some steam that way.

I’m back home now, enjoying my own space and catching up on tv and radio. I must remember that 2 weeks in Lebanon is okay, because I don’t have to see my mom everyday. But 2 weeks here is just too fucking long. Next time she comes to visit it’ll have to be for 7-8 days and nothing more. Also, next time she comes there will be no London visits. I just can’t handle it anymore. I thought that one more day would have led me to say things that I would have regretted. Well it looks like it’s not as distant a memory as I thought it was. I’m getting all worked up again. I probably should stop writing before I rebuild up all the frustration, anger, and tension I thought I had released earlier today.


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