21 November 2005

Philip Larkin

I have been thinking the past couple days about parents. About my parents in particular. About family ties and obligations.

They fuck you up, your mum and dad.
They may not mean to, but they do.
They fill you with the faults they had
And add some extra, just for you.

I think sometimes that I feel lonely or isolated because of my upbringing. Because my parents behaved like children and not parents. Because I have no siblings. Because I learned how to be content on my own, and not to rely on anyone else because inevitably, they let you down.

But they were fucked up in their turn
By fools in old-style hats and coats,
Who half the time were soppy-stern
And half at one another's throats.

I do wonder from time to time what the outcome of my life will be. If I will ever have a family. Do I even want a family? Objectively I want a family. But... maybe I don't. Could I be saddled with the responsibility for another human being when I don't feel that I've finished exploring my own life? I have more than one friend with a recently hatched baby or a baby on the way. And they're happy, and I'm happy for them. Because it's what they want. I just don't know what it is that I want. Sometimes I feel like I will run out of time before I ever figure it out.

Man hands on misery to man.
It deepens like a coastal shelf.
Get out as early as you can,
And don't have any kids yourself.

What are 'real parents'? Or 'right parents'? Or even 'good parents'? Who decides that? And who has it? My utopia could be your version of hell and vice versa. Everyone does shitty things in their lives. And everyone is someone else's kid. It all seems rather inevitable. And somewhat tragic.

No comments: