I am in my thirties and still living at home, tied to my father's pursestrings, still being controlled by him, suffering his endless seemingly unstoppable habit of getting involved in every single thing that I do, asking questions, chatting idly while I attempt to concentrate, working hard in his way at trying to connect at all the wrong moments, convinced I need some stimulation or more to do when all I ever really needed was the autonomy to pursue some action or interest that I can actually do without interruption and talking talking talking!
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One eye opened slowly, green and gold as sunlight in the woods. The cat said,"I am what I am. I would tell you what you want to know if I could, for you have been kind to me. But I am a cat, and no cat anywhere ever gave anyone a straight answer."