We love you

We love you We love you - meaning, Though you are not lovable, we are magnanimous enough to love you. You are cheap, blinded by ignorance, narrow minded, stupid enough to be led on, an idiot who understood nothing of life, uncultured, uncouth, yet we love you. You destroyed everything we cherished, fleeced dear mother of her health, time and money, ran over the house like primates grabbing whatever they touch, you are despicable, but we all love you. We wanted you to live in that house that belongs to all three of us, it is mother's and you are living with her, but you occupied it violently, brutally pushed us aside, clung to the property like a leech, sucked the life out of mama, romped through the house like a maniac, you lorded over it and we never objected except to save mama from your butchery, your ruthlessness, your callous indifference, your moronic attitude, your infantile habits and insensitive heart, but we love you as much as we love mama. We are capable of much greater love and will care for you but you must change, stop your antics, cut the bonds with the family, step out of the house that became a dungeon, be off with your monkey troops, with your ungrateful, fowl and incorrigibly mean partner, and let mama live a life of peace and harmony in the house which is hers by right, by law, and you are there by cunning, by brute invasion, harboring seedy thoughts, scheming to push mama into a corner, to take over the house and break it, sell it, plunder it and get away with the loot, the spoils of destruction. You have reached the pinnacle of degeneracy, for you have no morals, no class, no bank balance. Nothing to prove that you are worth anything in the world, yet we are willing to let go, forget the past, the heinous acts against mama, and work with you to come out of the mess that is your life, the dark miasmic pit that you have made of it, we will help you because we love you, we all do. You lived a cheap life, not knowing the finer side of life, the real value of things, can't discriminate between original and duplicate, you are blind metaphorically speaking, you know you are color blind, you said so many times. You lead a shallow life, there is no depth in it, a deep and rich life of principles, knowledge, understanding of life, a life of culture and erudition is utterly lacking, you live on the surface, scraping through life like a floatsam in the a current of filth, of mess, of disorderliness, of ineffectual effort, of inconsistence and indifference, a life of emptyness, of barrenness, in which nothing grows or flowers, which has not seen or felt or understood the best in life. You have been abroad but little did you know about the places or the people, or their language and culture, you floated through life like a will o' the wisp, something stirred up by passing winds and dropped in the most barren wastelands of existence. You cannot and can never comprehend the complexity of life. If you are given some crumbs to eat at regular intervals and medicine to see that you can prolong your jejune existence, you are satisfied, even have the gall to think that everything is fine, all is hunky dory, that there is nothing to disturb the illusiory peace you seem to feel. You cannot grapple with life's struggles so you ignore them, you hide behind petty theories and feeble philosophies, behind others who do all the dirty work for you, to keep you going in your shoddy life, in continuing your life that matters little, of no consequence to anything or anybody. You expect everything to be given to you on a platter, to be spoonfed, to be brought to you and to wait on you, you are too lazy or incapable of doing things for yourself, you are an imbecile, a physically mature, but otherwise an invalid, lethargic and insufferably selfish thing. You think of nothing except the peace you seek in the midst of turmoil, and you get it at any cost, whatever may be the circumstances, but we love you and have put up with your idiosyncracies, your nurotic habits, your mundane activities, your idotic outlook and your impossibly obtuse thoughts. - from the dairy of a vagabond Sent from my iPad