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i’m a 22 year old guy and my dad is an accountant. he is all about making money, and seems to have forgotten about his children.
all was seemingly “fine” with me and my dad; i was going to college like he wanted, until one day i realized i was naive and i quit college.
he isn’t following his dreams, and he didn’t want me to either.
anyways, i am currently working, living at home for the past 2 years, and he doesn’t have any consistent communication with me.
his father was an alcoholic and was never around, so i don’t know if that plays into it, but he’s a horrible father when it comes to building relationships with your sons.
we never talk about personal stuff ever; he has never been there for me EVER to discuss real issues in life… he just doesn’t show real interest in my life.
i am currently struggling to follow my dreams and find my niche in life, and it seems like he won’t help me out because he never followed his dreams..
almost like he’s secretly rooting for my failure because he knows deep down that he has wasted his entire life.
it’s almost like he’d rather worship his job and money, then have a authentic relationship with his kids.
his whole life seems built on his pride..
thoughts?

It’s set in a conservative, small Irish town in modern times.
Rosie Hammel, 17 years old. Relatively tall and thin. Pale skin with wavy dark brown hair. Light blue/grey eyes. Very pretty. Wears ‘quirky’ glasses. Often wears plaid shirts, skinny jeans and converse. Introverted, tries to fit in but just can’t. Intelligent. Accidentally outed her former best and only friend Jacqueline to their entire all-girls Catholic school on their first day back. Will she now face being alone now that her only friend isn’t talking to her? Has a 22 year old sister in college in Limerick. Her parents, Bob and Patricia Hammel and herself all live together in a small bungalow. Bob is a postman and Patricia takes care of the elderly and invalids. Middle-class. Both Bob and Patricia are easy-going and would let Rosie do almost anything she wants, mainly because Rosie is always stuck at home and they feel a bit sorry for her.
Jacqueline O’ Hara (A.K.A. Jack), 17 years old. Tall and in good shape from playing volleyball. Long blonde hair, tanned. Big green eyes and full lips. Often wearing designer clothing. Very well-dressed. High-femme. Loves wearing blazers and teaming bright coloured skirts with socks and heels. Moved from Dublin when she was 13 years old. Desired by many boys around the town but Jack always has an exuse to turn them down. Popular, but since being found out as gay, her friendships have shaken. Very laid-back, chilled personality. Outgoing. A bit of a badass. Only child. Her parents are Peter and Vanessa O’ Hara. Originating from Ballsbridge, Co. Dublin, she is a D4 girl. Her dad sees a niche in the market for a big shopping centre in the town and decides to start construction as soon as possible and they move. High-upper class. Her father is a multi-millionaire business man and his wife isn’t required to work for a living. They live in a big mansion on the outskirts of the town. Her father is always working so they don’t have that close of a relationship and she also isn’t close with her mother. They don’t relate. She sees her mother as very superficial and shallow whereas Jack doesn’t like how she has everything at her feet. She faces no real adversity.
Tómas Scully, 16 years old. Average height, average body type. A bit on the pale side. Deep blue eyes, thinnish lips and a strong jaw-line. Skinned head. Opts to wear tracksuits on a daily basis. Foster adopted by Séamus and Marie O’ Hara (Jack’s parents). Has a thick skin from the rough years in foster care and has become apart of a gang. He finally feels accepted and belonging to something with people of similar backgrounds. But deep down he knows what they are doing is wrong. When Tómas was eight, he was out playing football with his twin sister. The ball went out onto the road and he told her to go and get it, but then she was hit by a car and killed. Was put into foster care when he was just 11 years old because of neglect at home. Was in and out of homes but was never taken in because his ‘rebellious’ nature was too much for certain households. When he was 15 years old he was fostered by the O’Hara’s and finally adopted at 16 years old. Came from a lower-class background but now can live life comfortably with the O’Hara’s.
Rodrigo Sanchez, 17 years old. Kind of small and slim. Black curly hair with blue highlights at the tips. Tanned with brown eyes and thick eyebrows. Very pretty. Loves to wear coloured skinny jeans with vans. Usually combined with unusual jumpers or colourful shirts. An eccentric bisexual who is a foreign exchange student from Spain. When Rodrigo is caught with a man, his deeply religious host parents try to get the ‘deviant’ out of him. Sick of being mistreated, Rodrigo runs away with no money and will do anything to survive. He finds a ‘sugar daddy’ but then he falls in love with a girl called Adia. Two older brothers and one older sister. Oldest brother is in prison but his other brother is a successful model. His sister is settled down with a family and husband. Lower-middle class. Wanted to get out of Las Ramblas, Barcelona and experience the rest of the world, he payed for his foreign exchange out of the money his father left for him and was sent to Ireland. His father, Juan, was unemployed, and abandoned his family for a life with another woman when Rodrigo was 14 years old. His mother, Alva, works in a shop.
Adia Achebe, 16 years old. A little shorter than average. Curvy. Rocks an afro. Dark eyes, almost strikingly black. Very delicate facial features. Loves prints and she is often seen wearing colourful patterned leggings teamed with a nice short jacket and wedges. Known around the town as ‘easy’, Adia wants nothing serious as she fears it will distract her from her studies. (Also a fear of her strict Nigerian father). But when she decides to get a taxi home from a night out and things go terribly wrong, it is unlikely she will ever be able to trust someone again.

Many of you on here whom identify as republicans are presumably of low to middle income. For almost 30 years, the Republican party has favored a very small niche in this country, the rich. Why do you continue to vote for Republican candidates? Is it because you think that by doing so, you too will some day have the opportunity to become rich? The irony is that most of you won’t because of the very policies that have been enacted by Republican legislatures for the past 30 years. Your party is no longer your father’s party it used to be. When will you come to this realization?
Don’t believe me, just look up Republican policies before 1980 before Milton Friedman and Reaganomics. Going by your party’s logic today, you’d swear the Republicans of old were socialists.

I lay in the bed incredulously. A corridor of light stretched diagonally across my bedroom, illuminating fragments of dust in the air and warming the tops of my legs which were uncomfortably hot underneath the heavy duvet. The light made its way across the floor and rested upon a book flung there which I can’t quite remember the name of. I just remember being frustrated with the ending. I think it might have been a Hardy novel. But that doesn’t matter. What mattered was the girl lying next to me, her recently tanned skin shining in the early morning sunlight. She lay on her stomach with her right arm bent underneath her, the curve of her breast showing above the crook of her elbow. Her naked back was entirely exposed, the curve of her spinal cord running down to where her body disappeared into the duvet. Her dark brown hair fell across her face and over her shoulders, spreading itself on the pillow. Her back rose and fell in harmony with her steady, sleeping breath and her eyelids flickered in dream. Her full pink lips were slightly parted and formed a subtle smile that I never saw when she was awake. Her shield could not be lifted; she was vulnerable to anyone and anything. That was the first morning of my life that I felt like a man and not a teenage boy. That was the morning when I realised what I wanted to do with my life. That was the morning I discovered what real love was. The very same morning after Eve Wilcox had taken my virginity.
That is the memory I always return to when thinking of Eve. I think of her sleeping next to me. I think of her as mine. But I just want to set a few things straight. I’m going to tell the story of Eve and me, maybe not in order but how I like to remember it. Whether I start with when we met or when we parted it’s all the same. It all happened.
First I’ll tell you about myself. My name is Jude Moore. My parents named me after that Beatles song (you know the one) which resulted in numerous taunting renditions of the repetitive chorus throughout my childhood and adolescence. I can’t quite say I’ve ever forgiven my parents for that. I had a pretty standard upbringing. I had a twin sister and a younger brother. My sister was 3 minutes older than me so I guess you could say that I had middle child syndrome. My brother, Michael, was always the golden child. Golden hair, golden personality, golden everything. Michael was supreme in every social sphere. Everyone loved him. He went to Oxford, graduated with a first and he now lives with his lovely family in a very nice house in Chiswick. He started earning more money than my father when he was only 26 years old. Every time Michael would speak about his job my father would sit back in his chair and stare at a chosen spot on the kitchen wall with a rehearsed look of pride that, to me, was unmistakably marred by envy. My sister, Delphine, always had her own niche wherever she went. She could always slot herself right in. When she was 10 she would sit with the girls who liked to talk about Jaqueline Wilson novels. She read them all and she would say that she was ‘method acting’ a phrase she learned from the description on the back of one of my father’s books. When she reached adolescence she had a knack for being the arty individual kid. In university she discovered her true niche and now, like Michael, she lives happily in Kent with her husband and 6 children. Yes, 6. Even though we were twins we weren’t really alike. We’ve never been alike. Mum would say that when we were toddlers we never fought over toys or anything because we simply didn’t like the same things. We had nothing in common. Maybe it’s because we’re not identical.
I suppose that I felt dwarfed by my siblings when I was young. I felt so entirely different from the rest of my family that I was sometimes uncomfortable around them. Mostly because I thought they were uncomfortable around me. My relationship with my family during my adolescence can be summed up by one event; the death of my best friend, Simon, when I was sixteen years old. He had been diagnosed with leukaemia when he was twelve but it didn’t get bad until he was around fourteen. Anyway, he died and I was very sad. His brother called me the day he died when I was with my family shopping for our Christmas tree. When we had finished speaking I put my phone in my pocket and didn’t say a word. It wasn’t until a week later when my mum opened the invitation to Simon’s funeral that they realised why I had been in such a ‘mood’ for the past few days. They sat me down in the kitchen and my dad asked me why I hadn’t told them. I didn’t have an answer for them. They said something about me being in denial which was a natural stage of grief. But that wasn’t it. I just hadn’t seen the point in telling them. They couldn’t fix it and they couldn’t have said anything to make me feel any better. Better to suffer in silence I thought.

I’ve recently found out (according to my father) that I’m 1/16th Cherokee, which, according to what I’ve read, is supposed to be a qualifying amount to be registered with the EBC.
I’ve known pretty much all my life that I was some degree of Cherokee, and I knew that it had to be not too far off because I show a lot of the features (dark hair and eyes, facial structure, etc). I’ve had people ask me if I was Cherokee and how much without me mentioning it, so I finally decided to ask how close it was.
Now that I know that it’s close enough, I was wondering what steps you have to take to actually become part of a tribe. I’m not looking for the benefits or anything (to be honest, I’m not even sure if there even are “benefits” or what those benefits would be), I just really like the culture and the history and think that it would be an awesome privilege to be affiliated with them.
Do you think I’m taking too much of a leap, here? I wouldn’t want to try anything that would be disrespectful toward them. If not, I’d really like to know how I could actually do something about joining.

The Night World is a Tumblr-Based Kpop RPG. It’s AU, which means you come up with your character’s history and personality.
The Night World has been kept a secret from the humans since the first human was born. Every so often a solitary human would learn of the darker world, yet there was never any threat. However as the world quickly moves and changes, the Night World’s secret becomes harder to keep silent, and the day of the final battle draws near. Vampires, Witches, Humans and more, which side shall you take?
Plot with Sandeul:
Sandeul is a lost witch which means he’s a witch and is unaware of it. Ann J is a witch, but she knows. Sandeul and Ann J are related, however the two have different fathers, so their last names are different. Sandeul’s stepdad was Ann J’s real dad. Sandeul is only a few years older than Ann J. With Ann J at age 8, their mother fell ill and over a year she never got better. Because the treatment was so expensive, Ann J’s father sold her as a maid in the underground market when she was 9. She never saw her brother, father, or mother since. Now she’s 18 and serves as a maid to a woman in Seoul. A human who knows of the Night World. Will she ever see her brother again?
Ann J’s full history/description here —-> http://annj-nwrpg.tumblr.com/tagged/bio
I thought Ann J and Sandeul looked a lot alike, and after seeing that Sandeul was a lost witch, then I came up with the perfect plot idea for anyone who wanted to take him up. Because Ann J never knew she was a witch until the woman who she was sold to told her.
PLEASE BE ANN J’S BIG BROTHER<3 Join at http://nightworld-krp.tumblr.com