Family Isn't the Answer
Family, it's the worst. Nothing good ever comes from it. Having to sacrifice your own ethics and morals just because you're related to some cognitively inept troglodyte. Take for example this sad, dumpy bitch (best way I can describe him) cousin of mine and the rest of his side of the family. This human embodiment of asbestos' Facebook could be confused with a Russian bot. Sometimes I think it could be, but then I recall what I know about this person, and yep, racist, misogynist, a few chromosomes short of being able to think for himself.
He's also anti human rights (I guess that's really fucking cool in 2026 Cumberland, MD), yet fathered a boy with down syndrome when he was still in high school. That kid died in his teens, his twin sister lives, I guess. Dunno, wasn't invited to the funeral, and like hell would I go. When you drink like they do, well, those brain-flippers junior sporterd shouldn't have been a surprise.
He loves fucking the gaping hole in Charlie Kirk's lifeless neck. LOVES IT. His love for the incontinent leader of the enslaved west is just as strong as his hate for black lives and the lgbtq+ community. Which is odd considering his wife is manly-levels of homely. If I were a confident trans human, I would be deeply insulted by her unintended encroachment.
Fortunately, my immediate family (parents) are dead. They deserve their rest, not because of a long arduous life, but because they were rotten pieces of shit.
I'm not sure why I experience depersonalization, but I imagine it's from the omnipresent regret my parents carried through their entire lives while having zero aspirations for themselves outside of trying to own as much garbage as possible through crippling credit card debt. All while raising me from "Oops, I came inside her, now we have to marry" to "All I have left in life are my cigarettes."
They all believe in God; humanities excuse for everything awful.