r/Glasgow Tools

Title
Author	Eamonsieur
Comment	Jeez, is it so hard to have a little understanding? Try to see it from their perspective. Your name is William. You are a human being, and a proud Glaswegian like half-a-million others. Beyond your control you were born into a shitty family with a shitty dad, who himself was born into a shitty family with a shitty dad. In fact you come from a long line of shitty dads. Your entire genetic lineage is a joke of which you, for the time being at least, are the soggy, botched punchline - until you spurt your lukewarm seed into some unwitting girl's eggsack and the joke lumbers on. Your world seems to turn slower than everyone else's. You begin to wonder if the conversations your family have around the dinner table are the same as the ones your friends have. You watch your father slurp baked beans into his mouth like a 54-year-old baby. You begin to wonder if you will grow up to be like him. You suppress this pain. You, James and Johnboy go up the park most nights to work diligently on your soon-to-be-chronic alcohol problem. This is both a coping mechanism, an informal coming-of-age ceremony, and a group bonding exercise - all it does is exacerbate your steadily blooming anger disorder. Your dad knows, and you know he knows. You want him to intervene. He says nothing. But every summer your community pulls back the curtains and lets some light in. For you, this is Christmas. You dust off your white shirt. You pick up your drum. And for a precious few glorious hours you get to stand before the world and proclaim "I matter. I am not a joke. I have a voice and I will be heard" as the fat, diabetes-ridden, flushed-red faces of your extended family look on with manic glee. They too are afraid. Together you sing the songs of your fathers. And for this all-too-brief moment, you almost manage to believe. That you are a vital cog in the machine of humanity, and that when you die you will leave a gap in the ranks that cannot be filled. Sadly for you, that's total shite. Let them march. It's literally all they have.
Reddit Link	https://www.reddit.com/r/glasgow/comments/vpmnxx/my_plan_for_this_saturday_was_to_sleep_just_a/iek2q5x/
Created	Sat 2nd Jul 2022 9:55am
Status	normal ()

Jeez, is it so hard to have a little understanding? Try to see it from their perspective.

Your name is William. You are a human being, and a proud Glaswegian like half-a-million others. Beyond your control you were born into a shitty family with a shitty dad, who himself was born into a shitty family with a shitty dad. In fact you come from a long line of shitty dads. Your entire genetic lineage is a joke of which you, for the time being at least, are the soggy, botched punchline - until you spurt your lukewarm seed into some unwitting girl's eggsack and the joke lumbers on.

Your world seems to turn slower than everyone else's. You begin to wonder if the conversations your family have around the dinner table are the same as the ones your friends have. You watch your father slurp baked beans into his mouth like a 54-year-old baby. You begin to wonder if you will grow up to be like him. You suppress this pain. You, James and Johnboy go up the park most nights to work diligently on your soon-to-be-chronic alcohol problem. This is both a coping mechanism, an informal coming-of-age ceremony, and a group bonding exercise - all it does is exacerbate your steadily blooming anger disorder. Your dad knows, and you know he knows. You want him to intervene. He says nothing.

But every summer your community pulls back the curtains and lets some light in. For you, this is Christmas. You dust off your white shirt. You pick up your drum. And for a precious few glorious hours you get to stand before the world and proclaim "I matter. I am not a joke. I have a voice and I will be heard" as the fat, diabetes-ridden, flushed-red faces of your extended family look on with manic glee. They too are afraid. Together you sing the songs of your fathers. And for this all-too-brief moment, you almost manage to believe. That you are a vital cog in the machine of humanity, and that when you die you will leave a gap in the ranks that cannot be filled. Sadly for you, that's total shite.

Let them march. It's literally all they have.