(no subject)
A snippet of conversation:
Dad: Sometimes I wish you never heard of Harry Potter and Kyo Kara Maoh.
Me (curiously): Why?
Dad: All this stuff about hearing your 'muses' and giving them names didn't happen until you got involved in writing fanfic.
Me (quietly): They've always been there, Dad. I just never talked about them.
Then I lied and told him that it wasn't as though they were real, and I certainly knew better than that. That of course I didn't take it seriously and that it was really just a game anyway. And we laughed it off and continued with what we were doing.
He never believed me. All this time he's just been humoring my neuroses.
Maybe I am crazy.
Everything comes down all at once, doesn't it?
I'm not happy at all.
Dad: Sometimes I wish you never heard of Harry Potter and Kyo Kara Maoh.
Me (curiously): Why?
Dad: All this stuff about hearing your 'muses' and giving them names didn't happen until you got involved in writing fanfic.
Me (quietly): They've always been there, Dad. I just never talked about them.
Then I lied and told him that it wasn't as though they were real, and I certainly knew better than that. That of course I didn't take it seriously and that it was really just a game anyway. And we laughed it off and continued with what we were doing.
He never believed me. All this time he's just been humoring my neuroses.
Maybe I am crazy.
Everything comes down all at once, doesn't it?
I'm not happy at all.

no subject
Over the past few years, I've adopted a complete honesty policy, so I haven't hid the fact that I view my muses as people, real and at times more concrete than actual people I know.
I thought my dad believed me. To find out he was just humoring me because he thought I was crazy hurts, and I think it's broken my trust in him. At least bent.
I guess hurting their children is what parents do best, isn't it?
no subject
no subject
I should only be so lucky that he would have muses of his own.