guts_and_gore

guts_and_gore
I have to be aware of where I have come from. I am twenty–five.

My mother is an actress.
My mother is a teacher.
My mother had breast cancer.
My mother is an alcoholic.
My mother gave too much.
My mother is a victim.
My mother is a martyr.
My mother cannot say no.
My mother is weary.
My mother is my hero.

My father is an artist.
My father is a business man.
My father had a stroke at birth.
My father is a writer.
My father reads The Age everyday.
My father is a tyrant.
My father is a stay-at-home dad.
My father is a grammar school boy.
My father is a public school boy.
My father is wise.

I have come from a privileged background.
I have had everything made available to me.
My parents are still married.
I have had Shakespeare and Beckett on the bookshelves all my life.
My parents are university educated.
I have been overseas.
I am an only daughter with three younger brothers.
Somehow, my brothers were left behind in class.
I have not had to share a bedroom.
I was private school educated.
I have always been surrounded by what my father considers art.
I never have gone cold or hungry.
I have not had to provide for my family.
I have had a job since I was thirteen.
I have seen my mother in hospital.
I have seen my mother in a divisional van.
I have seen my father’s paintings on walls in public places.
I have seen my father struggle with disability.
I am father’s temper and my mother’s poison.