My mother hassled me today about getting a job. It was quite
disconcerting, and I had to exercise patience to detach myself from the
bullying. She walked into my room whilst I was practicing keyboard with a copy
of one of my old pay checks, asking if it wasn’t good to have money.
When I had money, she was living in a paradise. In her mind,
as she so often speaks it, my keyboarding was “not a career. Just fiddling.”
I just picked it up off the printer downstairs, in my father’s
study.
I noticed, on the back, a rudimentary sketch of a design for
the video game I am making.
She must not have noticed. I felt relieved. Something is on
my side, even in the guise of what opposes me.
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