My parents kicked me out of the house. | Hipster Runoff

My parents kicked me out of the house.

Photo via lookbook


My parents kicked me out of the house. I lived in a drug dealer's apartment for several weeks, until he expected me to pay him rent with sexual favors. I found a cozy nook underneath the Main Street bridge. Every night, I curl up on a piece of cardboard, and find myself doing something I haven't done since I became an atheist at 6 years old--I pray. I pray to any one who will listen: God, Jesus, the Virgin Mary, Allah, Osama Bin Laden, Barry Obama. I pray hard.

One morning I came downstairs expecting to pour myself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast crunch and eat it on the couch while watching reruns of Project Runway and The Real Housewives of New Jersey. Both of my parents were waiting at the table for me. They had my pipe on the table, as well as 1 gram of dank, a lil bump of coke, a stack of pornographic DVDs, and a poster board of LSD. They said "What is this?"

I replied, "I'm sorry. I'm going through an experimental phase."
Mom: "Experiment my ass!"
Me: "It's not like you never did any experimenting during ur youth."
Dad: "We don't want you to make the same mistakes that we did."
Mom: "Your dad is right."
Me: "I don't even know why you're confronting me about this when u have problems of your own."
Mom: "I don't know what you're talking about. Your dad and I are doing well."
Me: "You know dad cheated on you with that waitress from Chili's. I can hear through the walls at night."
Dad: "That's enough!"
(mom starts sobbing uncontrollably, leaves the room...silence for 5 minutes)
Me: Well... are you done? I'm going to eat some CTC (cinna toast crunch).
Dad: Listen to me you little shit. I brought you into this world with my semen, and I can take you the fuck out. If you want to live under this roof, you need to get your shit together, and respect me.
Me: Why did you cheat on mom?
Dad: I didn't cheat on your mother....we're not getting into this. I left a cup that I need you to fill up with pee. Please go do that soon.
Me: Why do you need to drug test me if you know I am already on drugs?
Dad: Once again, this is about respect.
Me: I don't respect you.
Dad: Get the fuck out of my house.
Me: FINE.

I went to my room and put all of my favourite clothes into a bag. I had $60 to my name. I put my Macbook into my computer bag, and left the house through the backdoor. Eventually I found out that there are no wireless networks under bridges, and the ones that do show up require a password.

Every day I go to a local coffee shop to look for jobs, and stay relevant by reading alt websites. However, I am feeling like maybe 'being alt' doesn't even matter. Maybe now that I am on my own, I won't care about social subcultures any more. I just want to be able to feed myself every day. I'm never going back home again. Not to that fucked up family.

I think I'll make it on my own. Maybe I can get a job at Am Appy, and save up enough money to buy an efficiency. I think I'll make it. They say that the hard times are what really make u "you." Sorta like what Steve Carrell told Paul Dano in "Little Miss Sunshine" [via Proust]. These are hard times, but I think I'll get through them and my life will be more meaningful.