Call of the Aether.

My biggest obstacle to writing with a sound mind is surprisingly my mother. She keeps interrupting the flow with food offers, chats about mundane nothings, worries about my future and the english translation of malluwhatevers is going on on TV.
Shes a formidable Obstacle. Its almost impossible for me to teach her any respect for my writing. She thinks of it as a kind of harmless Lunacy. Today I will attempt to instill some sense into her but I doubt it will work. My mother as she grows older becomes more and more like a child. She plays around and laughs off everything while I pull my hair and stomp the ground. I wish I could end this snippet of mine in a sweet constructive way but I doubt it. In the end I have to shout at her but I hate shouting at my mom.