Dear Mother,

voicemail: i'm worried because of you. reassure me.

then you reduce my existence to dietary functions, a physical address, and a daily routine. all other functions are excluded. more than that - they are undesirable aversions from correctness.

no, mother, i can't reassure you. i am what you fear. 

 

i cannot say anything to change that, because no - i am not a son you entitle yourself to. and no force on earth will replace me. you do not accept me, you will forever expect me to be something else in order to feel reassured.

 

I've been telling you for fifteen years, while you fail to care. i cannot because i am not. I've already told you this and everything else you need to know. but once you get what you want, you drop any pretense of listening to me.

 

so simply live with your fear. you are the source of it. i will not let your emotional pitfall lead to my own.
i will not live as your crutch.  

 
when you've understood all this, then I will speak to you. 

 

goodbye - 

        no, just 'bye'.

 

silence