My Family, the Proletariat

I have recently gotten into a spat with my mother. She wants me to work a job that I would really have huge apprehensions about working.

See, when you do the math correctly, the position comes down to less than minimum wage. This is work that not any random person can do. It involves numbers, Excel, computer competency, and in theory you need to be available 24/7 for any requests.

There must be a huge line for that position, right?

Well, not really. For some reason, they have a hard time filling the position.

However, my mom is upset that I’m not taking this wonderful opportunity.


I think it has to do with my family coming from a piss poor upbringing. One where opportunities are few and far between. A lot of my family had kids without establishing a career or education. The thought that I would even negotiate wage is repulsive to my mother.

They have a mindset that things are scarce. They might even think they are low worth.

I’m embarrassed.

Da Hawaiians

I have been unfairly critical and demeaning of the people of Hawaii. Now that my time here in ending I feel regret.

Yes, I do feel isolated and that the people here are kind of odd. I mean, it’s an island in the middle of the ocean separated from just about everything else this world has to offer.

Yet, we are all sentient beings with needs, wants, and hopes. The people here are just trying to survive to the next day. It must hurt to see people come in this refuge and then alter the way life is conducted here. Strip malls are being built. People are buying houses and only living in them a few months out of the year causing the average price of a home and living to rise.

There are wonderful people on this island. There are loving people here. There are people that if they saw someone suffering the street they would immediately do everything in that power to help lift people up.

Let’s not end my time here on a bad note. I want peace. My entire family loves Hawaii. I have Hawaiian cousins and family. My grandfather was born in a plantation town called Nalehu and I have ancestors buried in unmarked graves around the rainforest.

For some reason, my ancestors from Japan and the Philippines decided to leave their homes and make a new community out here on these chains of islands. I will never understand that, but they did.

People out here look like me. People around here look like my family members. I can not help to go around town and have a strange familiarity with the people.

So when I am gone and leave, let me just say that even though life was not ideal this island and the people are part of my heritage whether I like it or not. I know that as soon as I open my mouth most people probably reject me or think differently of me. But, I do have a stake in these islands. I can claim them. Deep down, I’m the same, you just never realized it or bothered to find out.

Black Metal Mentality

I enjoy this genre very much.

It has kind of taught me to live life as an individual as someone separate from the rest of mankind because of my rationality and scepticism.

Many artists also emphasize nature and the power of the forests and mountains. Extreme and powerful weather like blizzards.

On the one hand you have your bands that sound a bit punkish (I know I can get a bit of hate for this) like Carpathian Forest, Mayhem, and some of Gorgoroth. It has a very tongue and cheek and blasphemous portrayal of Christianity and society.

Then you have the artists like Emperor and Satyricon which kind of approach the genre as a high art almost.

In Defense of Myself

Yeah okay, I admit. My sibling and my cousins pretty much hate me.

It started with my cousin and with the family herd mentality eventually they found reasons, meaningful or otherwise, to cut me out. I attribute it more to mob mentality than anything.

I made a Facebook post in 2010 saying that if I had children that repeated corporate slogans I would take them out to the woods and shoot them in the back of the head. This was a “Of Mice and Men” literary reference so I’m not surprised most of my family didn’t get it. None of them read or are well read.

What did happen was that my cousin took it to mean that I would shoot her kids. I mean, it’s a bit of stretch. Anyways, we haven’t talked much since.

There were other things on Facebook that annoyed her like when I went to Hawaii and was writing about how people in Los Angeles are animals. Admittedly, I did write FB posts like “oink” or “shit smell.” Probably because I slept the night around dirty diapers and smelled shit all throughout the entire night.

Plus, sometimes I would get up early in the morning to do stuff and she didn’t like that. I would be ironing my clothes for a job interview or extra work and she would barge in, have me dismantle the whole thing, wait for her to do whatever she was doing, and then I would have to put it back up again. It’s like if my life was anything other than letting my Grandmother take me to Cheesecake Factory than I was shitty.

My other cousin was living with us at the time and I remember a morning-time conversation where my cousin was saying “We were just extras” like it was a waste of our time, or frankly I don’t know other than it was definitely in a negative connotation.

I think the whole kicking me out for my Facebook post was more making a mountain out of a molehill so there would be more space for her upcoming third child. See, she lived (and still lives) in a cramped house with her then husband and children. This is aside from my Aunt and her husband.

My Grandmother is dying but even now I have to make special arrangements to see her because my cousin controls that house even though she probably doesn’t pay the mortgage.

I also want to mention that most of my family is extremely reactive, ignorant, and perhaps not even that bright.

Once, while living in Thailand I posted a picture of a Thai guy wearing a swastika rainbow shirt that said “Nazi.” My one cousin flipped out like, “How could you post that!?” and one of my FB friends even responded first like “This dude is obviously not a white supremacist and you need to chill out.” Not to mention you see that symbol all around China and Vietnam because believe it or not that is ASIAN in origin, not German and not Nazi. Well, he cut me out.

I was asking my other cousin (there’s another post with the chat capture) what the merits of Bitcoin were. I was explaining to him that I consider it an experiment at best and never an investment. I asked him multiple times, “What backs Bitcoin?” Instead of answering the question he decided to attack me personally saying, “What’s the value of you? You need to be happy. Why are you so miserable?” Well, he cut me out for asking it over and over again. Ironically, someone hacked his Bitcoin and I’m guessing he lost 100k plus and needs to find a job as a Systems Administrator again.

Most people have heard of FaceApp the phone app where you can take a picture and it will make you a baby, make you young, make you old, and make you the opposite sex. I decided to try it out and have it as my WhatsApp profile picture. One of my religious looney Uncles messaged me saying along the lines of “What is that? That’s gay shit. You better not be playing with makeup.”

My sister is anti-vax with a boyfriend who believes the world is flat. I asked her if she knew about the theory that not vaccinating children puts other people at risk. There is a past blog post about this. She straight up doesn’t give a fuck. Eventually she cut me off too.

So… I’ve been cut off and am a pariah to my family. Is it that bad? Well, when I write all this stuff out it kind of seems like a badge of honor to be honest. If I’m a pariah it probably means that I’m more sensible and rational. I don’t live around shit. If I see a symbol like a swastika I don’t have a knee-jerk reaction but can rationalize what I see internally. I don’t have religious hangups about using a phone app that will turn me into a woman.

My mother always makes me feel like I have the problems. The truth is I’m probably more in the center of the bell curve when it comes to general intelligence and rationality and a good portion of my family is below that bell-curve.

Stepfather’s Life Advice

Right before the time I had to leave the house and get my own place my stepfather sat me down and had these words of advice.

They were roughly:

“Become a United States Immigration Enforcement Agent.”

Like ICE or something.

And look at them today. Their actions are definitely creating pain and suffering for others.

That was the type of person my stepfather was.