25.12.11

Yeah, Merry Christmas to you, too.
Or, I guess I couldn't say "to you, too" since I haven't received it.
You were whining like a pissy bitch that you're not going to Argentina anymore.
And you beat the fuck out of me due to being upset.
My throat hurts like I've been bulimic for a month again because of your arm.
And I've been babying you this whole time since you have to spend Christmas alone.
Paying for half your train ticket to come here and continue getting spoiled.
Buy you In N Out.

But no, you couldn't think of me today to call me and wish me a Merry Christmas.

15.11.11

Man, I feel like a fool sometimes.
There are days when I'm not sure if the sun sure does shine.
I got a couple mistakes of mine.
That I'm trying to swallow and suffocate.

But, wait.

I've been medicating to enhance.
But I've been closing my eyes with every chance.
Think I don't know how to scream loud enough sometimes.
Seems like my body doesn't know that the sun sure does shine.
No matter how much my mind believes it.

And I eat it.

Whether I'm hungry or not.
My stomach may rot.
If I don't pay attention.

Yeah, and it seems like

I don't have the time.






Well, my flow was interrupted. 

22.10.11

Man, living downtown.
I feel like people on Pacific ave. think I'm more mysterious than I really am.
There's the bar one block from my house which I will never go to.
The black bouncers are my secret friends.
And the Jaberwok is a beautiful shop with the $270 whale pipe that belongs to me.
With little skateboard kids that hang out outfront.
The Surf Dog on the corner across from Saturn Cafe.
And it's filled with ghetto people that frighten me.
The liquor store on the corner across.
Parallel to Taco Bell.
The Indian man who sold me Vodka one night.
But when I come during the day, he realizes that I am a fraud.
And does not give me the Jack Daniels I desire.
Graphix with the guy who calls me Big Red.
And the obese sweating crack addicted black man who sold me Barnaby for $50.
More to describe.
But my father is coming soon.
Must hide bong and such.


Life is groooooooovvvvvvyyyyyyy.

All I need to do is stop vomiting.

20.9.11

I feel an explosion coming on.
Threw up for three weeks.
Caught a cold and stopped eating for three.
And now I'm waiting until I'm too unhappy with my body to start working out again.
I'm also waiting to move downtown so that I can get the 24 hour membership downtown.
And it will make sense.
However, I threw up tonight.

Something is wrong with my relationship, and I'm trying to figure it out.
I don't know how to work on it.
And I'm scared I'm going to get over it.
But every time I think of that, I just feel so sad.
And I know that it isn't what I want.
But I know something is missing.
I know he can tell.
He thinks I'm unsatisfied.

I just want a really deep and connected relationship.
And I want him to be more vulnerable with me.
And I feel like that isn't ever going to happen.
And I want him to make an effort when I'm upset.
He does in certain circumstances.
But if we're in public, he simply dismisses me.
And I find that the most offensive.

I feel like he's keeping his eyes open.
And one day someone will walk right in front of him.
And he will follow.

I just feel like if someone who I might consider came to me.
I wouldn't care.
I am already happy.
But Bryan never seems to fully tie himself off.

I know we're young.
But I don't want a thing if it isn't full loyalty.
I don't feel like loyalty has to hold you back.
Has to take away from your freedom.

There is so much school this semester.
And I'm moving in ten days.
And I have to drive an hour and a half twice to get this Savannah Cat.
And there are changes.
And I am becoming aware of my interactions.
And.
I just want him to be there for me to lean on.
Because I know I'm going to get really stressed out.

My face hasn't been soaked like this in a while.

I just want him to snap into it.
And I don't know how to tell him what I'm thinking.
Without him getting angry.

I asked him if he thought he was deep, and he got angry with me.
Because he thought that I was implying that he was shallow.
I just want him to think about his connections.

I am also learning how to fumble around a guitar.
And I am going to play WELL one day.
I will throw a little Jack White in it.
A little Jimmy Page.
A little big from Dan Auerbach
Oh my gadddd.
And tha blueeeees.
God damnit, I can't wait.
I'm going to practice every day.
I'm going to be damn good.
And I'm going to have the coolest groove.







26.8.11

I met his mother today.
Even though we've been together for.....
A year and.....
Four months.
She has been avoiding me because she found this website.
And therefore it is for my own pleasure now.
She was nice.
I started sweating when we first started talking.
Which is very uncommon. 

He is too comfortable with me.
In the manner that he is extremely rude.
Constantly.
Even if it's minor,
It's like having a huge bruise poked over and over again.
And I am becoming too sick of it.
To the point where I will leave him if he doesn't change.
But whenever I try to speak to him about any problems,
He turns it into a situation where I'm "nagging"
And he's just sighing and over it.
And won't listen to a thing.

How can I be in a relationship where I can't talk to him about anything.
That's fucking stupid.
What a selfish ape.

20.8.11

Oh yeah.
And fuck my friends.



Yeah, I remember.
Waking up with stormy weather.
Grinding with the bile.
Rotting teeth behind the smile.

And it's burning into my tongue.
I've learned my lesson, but I continue on.
I need some secret mistake. 
Makes me laugh as my spine breaks.

I find myself reaching for cigarettes.
Gum.
Cough drops.
My soul stops.
And I'm obsessed again.

Sick off the vitamins.

Sick off of anything.



Waking up nauseous. 

19.8.11

My throat hurts.
I'm exhausted.
Every time I eat, I get nauseous.
And I'm obsessing. 


I've seen too much of Lucas.
That also exhausts me.
I don't.
He pushed my boundaries.
And I hate that.

Speaking of.
I still have to email that photographer man that I cleaned for.
And tell him I'm never coming again and not to contact me.

I don't trust Bryan.
He's going to do the same thing he did to Emily.
Why not.
He's always looking.

And I'm settled.
And old.
And prude.
And dried up.
And I'm happy and comfortable this way.

So.....sucks for me.












And I wish being in a relationship didn't take the guitar away from me.
Good thing I'm going to sleep alone tonight.
He can flirt with grommy beezies.
And I can have a nice evening with Harrison. 

16.8.11

It's comforting that he's so sensitive about my interactions.
Hopefully, it means that he is about his own.
That he knows the proper boundaries

I was really rude tonight.

And I realized it was all in punishment of him being late home today.
And I needed the car.
And he was three hours late with it.

I had to see an apartment very soon, though.
So I had a lot of anxiety.

And I was fine after.

But I was still anxious over the possibility of fucking up.

Do other people have such strict fears of failure?
Or do I have some kind of disorder I don't care/know about?
Drunk.
And.
Emotional.
Talking to a guy friend.




I just.

Will never do anything to ruin my relationship.

14.8.11

I have been upset with my weight for two months now.
And I have been trying to exercise it off.
I vomit for two days.
And here I am.
Where I want to be.

How fucking annoying!





Why are the bad things so easy?


I dreamt that I was dangling out of Tom's car.
Because they had no space due to everyone else.
And we were driving down the highway.
And Tom makes a sharp turn to pull into the driveway.
I fall off, and cars swerved to avoid hitting me.
And one stops dead in front of my face.
And I was there.
I felt it all.
But I wasn't afraid.
I knew nothing would happen.


I seem to have this luck where I get away with anything.
And I do things sloppily.
Such as stealing.

However, it may be because I am stealing candy most of the time.


No, it can not be that.


The people in Safeway who make sandwiches for me everyday must know.
They look at me like they do.
Or maybe they just wonder how I can eat so many sandwiches.



I don't exactly want to be crazy thin.
I just want to be in shape.
So though I may be partially throwing up,
I must still eat and make sure I get protein.
And obviously continue going to the gym.





God damnit, I just want to find out if he's going to leave me for Boston already.











I cleaned this man's house.
His name is Swami.
He asked me what I like to do, and I told him photography.
It turns out that he was a photo journalist and worked for movie sets such as Drug Wars.
The FDA then had him be a photographer for their drug busts.
And he showed me some of his photos.
I considered some of them over edited.
And then he asks if he can take a picture of me.
I allow him. 
And next thing I fucking know, there he goes.
He tells me that my stance is elegant and asks if I model.
And this is how I know that he is creeping on me.
Because I do not have to proper body or height of a model.
He's just,
Doing that dumb ass cliche' thing.
And he continues on to aks to see my stomach.
Takes the initiative to pull my shirt up for me.
And he tries to roll down my pants and notices that I'm not wearing underwear. 
I tell him that I have boundaries.
And he asks me if I'm shy.
No, I have boundaries god damnit.
He tries to pull my shirt up, and once I realize that he's trying to pull it up further, I take hold of my shirt, back off, and reiterate that I have god damn boundaries.
However, I have not even started to clean his house yet.
He lets me play with his expensive camera, and I take a few pictures.
He lets me edit them on his computer, but continues to sit in the office chair.
Therefore, I have to stand in front of him, and he does not give me enough space, 
and he finds it appropriate to touch my butt to get my attention.








I feel gross.
And Bryan tells me it's my fault it happened.

8.8.11

I drive to Danville after buying $110 of the purest Cocaine I've had so far in this life.
And I arrive to a situation where.
Where Cocaine is going to make the night only difficult.


I can't even describe this right now.
Melissa is anxiety in a bottle.


It was a very uncomfortable night.



But at least I wrote a long lovely letter to my boyfriend.

29.7.11

Why are things un natural.
Uncommon.
Why, do I still not trust you.


Why am I building up this numb.
Pre death.

16.7.11

I'm trying not to be obsessed with my weight.
But I fucking suck.

11.7.11

Boston.

Like pouring sugar on my wine.
You're the addiction of my time.
Feelin' warm on my finger tips.
The best looking thing I ever hit.

Not like I'm about to go anywhere.
But you're looking at other skies.
That one day you'll recognize
Without me.
You'll forget about our history.

Too bad I'm so deep in.
This tangled.
Strangled.
Explosion.

I think about this,
and my guts eat my brain.
I look at you, and I'm crying.
Ask me why, I keep lying.

I'm embarrassed of.
My need for you.

But maybe that's just this frightening love.
You're the skin that pushes the shove
In my mind.
That you're looking at other skies.
Why the fuck am I surprised.

It's a continuum.
You're a pattern of the forgotten sun.
I am a mirror of the memory.
What the fuck, you've forgotten me.






WHAT THE FUCK. YOU NEVER EVEN MADE THE MEMORY.

3.7.11

Boston.

 
I happened to.
Be addicted to.
This tension.

I don't belong.
Though I'm wrong.
And I mention.

Incorrect connection.
This awkward acception.
I'm a lie.
In my mind.
But the reality.
Still calls to me.
To take me from the.
Curtains.

I'm hurtin'.


I'm just afraid.
Of the mistakes.
I taste like.

But if they look straight on.
They can see through the clone.
Of this creative.
Comfortable.
alone.
and....
alone.

I feel okay if I'm alone.

You're the exact blood.
Of  this baby feeling.
It's still needing.

Jo's still missing.

But it's sad because.
I still know you're leaving.

You're leaving.
So why not be gone.

This addiction to you.
Is only so long.

So I wean.
I wean.

You're beautiful,
But it's mean.

I wean,
And I wean.

I love you,
But I wean.

Such a lie.
Such a lie.

I'm caught inside the deviled mind.

I'm twisting in this evil grind.



But if you'll fade away.
If you'll be dust to stay.
Why look at you with this wonderous need.
You're soon to leave.
You're soon to leave.

Why am I crying.
If you're soon to leave.






Monkey.

25.6.11

What the fuck am I doing?

22.6.11

We realized that we are eachother's best friends.

19.6.11

A show.
Of the local friends.

I finally find a guy to buy a sac from.
I give him good conversation.
He shares a bowl with me.
He reminds me of two people put together.
And he is mediocre, but nothing negative to me.

Two playing electronic music.
I was high, and found it hilarious.
Claimed it sounded like two battling video games.

A hardcore man.
Playing pumped up Blink 182, basically.
No one danced.
No one stood.
And I felt really bad for him.
Because I really respected his bravery.
However, he was playing to a shitty drum track and recorded backing vocals.

A guy on guitar with eyes that lock.
Similar to The Killers.

A bitch with a voice and a personality similar to cocaine.
A seventiest vibe.
A bad guitar solo.
And one that's okay, but taken too far.
A broken string.
Embarrassing groupies.

The guy I smoked with keeps watching me where I go.

She walks up to me.
Alcohol in the van.
I run after him to join.
A boy is talking about fucking a girl he doesn't like.
I tell him to stop waisting his time if he doesn't like her.
They laugh.

Space bag.
The only way to consume is quickly.
Breathe out of your mouth.
Beer.
All for the influence.

A boy who finds me interesting.
Blonde, greasy, straightened hair.
Snake bites.
All black clothing.
First thing I heard when I met him outside was a cocaine brag.
Which made me grind my teeth and hate him.
We talk about California.
He says that Classick Rock is over, and it's 2011.
I tell him there's a little bit out there, and that 2011 has nothing to do with it.
He mentions that he heard there was a good hardcore scene in California.
That's what he's into.
I tell him I don't know anything about it.

Weed pulls me out of the van.
And I talk to the singing girl with a beautiful rock necklace.
Red silk shirt.
Black bell bottom jeans past her belly button.
With flowers crawling up the right leg.

The pipe forms it's own circle without me.
Some boy finds my Buck Fush shirt interesting.
The guy I smoked with before invites us to smoke in his car.
I find myself drunk and holding the pipe for too long.
Lost in conversation, and they're making fun of me.
The cliche' form of flirtation.
They kept telling me I was drunk.
Which is obvious since I stated it myself.
And since I was drinking.
That is what happens.
But they had nothing to say.
And wanted to still poke at me.

The night became a blur of cans, bag, weed, music, and a van multiple times.
I sit in the van listening to them play.
Covers of Modest Mouse.
A pixies song that always brings me to my group of friends.
I stumble along to find myself at a Pink Floyd cover.
And it's euphoric.
And well done.
The trombone.

A band that I was introduced to during my stay is sung amongst everyone in the room.

"I don't care if my eyes roll back in my head."

The boy who decided to wear a girl's short shorts is being spun around in a random wheelchair.

Somehow find myself in the van again.
A fat girl in a goth dress with red lipstick wants my acceptance.
I give it to her because I'm drunk, and I feel like talking a lot.
I find myself stuck in the bathroom with her.
I introduce her to high quality lipstick.
She bends the stick off the end.
An puts it on sloppily.

My friend knocks on the door searching for me for the millionth time.
Relief.

I miss meeting people in these situations.
I miss these situations.

We drive home, and Mr. Hardcore needs a ride.
We, therefore, piled in the back.
The boy in the front seat steps his muddy shoes on my jacket and white sweatshirt.
The Hardcore listener is in the middle.
I am by the door.
He tries to hold the handle on the door.
The excuse to have his arm around my back.
I sit forward and hate this moment all the way through.
However harmless it is, I don't want him touching me.

After dropping everyone off.
My friend and I arrive at her place.
Finish watching the intervention with the PCP addict.
Eat balls of Chex Mix.
Realize I'm eating for no reason.
The most beautiful man in my life calls me.
We talk about our nights.
I sleep.
Wake up.
Go upstairs.
Grab and chug soymilk.
Bring the soymilk with me and repeat several times.
Wake up, and go to the gym.

18.6.11

The only way to avoid obsession and destruction is to be in shape.
Otherwise, I would slip back into cocaine and bile.

Instant.


Black eyes from the same skin.
I feel like my mind is slipping into disturbance once again.
I like this.
It brings my creativity back.
It brings....
Self awareness back.
I've been so.
.... So plain, it seems.
My struggles only consist of my relationship.

Exercising is my new control.
And I've slipped into a weight gain that has brought back an obsessive mind.
Due to the lack of exercise.
I can not vomit, though.
Because she used to, and I'm staying with her.
But I'm really glad.
If it weren't for visiting her,
Well, I may have been able to fix myself.
But going through this partial self hatred again, an only having a solution that is positive is probably the first time I've done it the right way.
Done anything the appropriate way.
And it's making my butt HUGE and amazing.
One reason why I enjoy gaining weight.
Because once I lose it, my ass doesn't.

I had a dream.
This boy from my second semester of photography class.
He was attractive, but nothing of my interest.
In this dream, we somehow started to physically connect.
Not in a sexual manner, but in a comforting way.
And I sat below him as he held me.
And Bryan was in my mind, and I knew that what I was doing was wrong, but I made the decision to let it continue as long as I did nothing sexual.
And this boy way stuck in my mind, and all I wanted was this cuddling with him.

And it's swimming through my mind today.
Why, even if it's a dream, would I think to lie.
Keep secrets.
Why would I go to someone else in my dream for comfort.
And.... Obviously a situation like that would lead to more.
And.
I just don't feel comfortable with dreams like that because my morals are against it.

And I don't want my mind to ever think of such things.

1.6.11

BASICALLY NONE OF MY FRIENDS ARE GROWING UP.
They aren't fake to me, but they're fake to everyone else.
And they care what people think.
And they're dumb bitches.
And I'm embarrassed of them.
And I don't want them to visit me because no one would like them
Here.

And she's a drunk bitch.
And she hates how happy I am.
And I keep my mouth shut and stay nice towards her.
But I don't want her anymore.
All she wants is to be fucking cool.
AND IT IS SO BORING AND DRAINS ME OF ALL MY MONEY.


And to the worrier, you are not involved in this.

25.5.11

My friends are really disappointing me.

I feel myself distancing.






And only worrying about the money she owes me.







4.5.11

I feel extremely stressed.
And.
Depressed.

I can't find the right words to explain what's wrong.

30.4.11

He said my name during sex.
It's still echoing in my head.




He also crashed my car.
But that's solved.
I feel like my dad definitely knows how to handle his money.
  

24.4.11

Bad things come in clusters.

1.3.11

You guys.
I.
This hurts so much.
Oh my god.
Dude, I love him.
Completely.
And I'm not over it.
I thought I was.
But then I realized that it's not worth it.
I'm still happy.
And things just need to be thought about and talked about.
Dude, you guys, it's in my chest.
Oh man, I woke up at six in the morning, and I couldn't breathe.
I don't know.
I'm so sad.
This is so painful.
It's just pulsating in my head.
This is so horrible and painful.
Oh man.
Oh man, I don't want this.
I want it all back.
I was so happy.
And the bad times were needless.
I just want to wrestle with him.
And scratch his head.
And his back.
And I want to shake his head and call him a monkey.
Dude, I want that back.
I miss him.
He was the person that I wanted.
His true self.
And the bad things were just things he needs to think about.
I wish I could help him.
He is in my soul, man.
Dude, and when I look at him, I can see everything.
And I could see my future.

28.2.11

I don't care much about this blog anymore.
But only you, Adrie and Angel can read this.
And you guys are the ones who know my exact soul.
And you've read every single one of these entries.

I just need to say it all somewhere.
And I want to be able to tell you guys.

I feel okay.
I feel like this is a big part of life that everyone has to experience.
And I've done it.
And I'm going to tell you guys what it's like.
Because I was always so interested in what love was like.

I feel like I've learned a lot from him.
I've learned how to truly love myself.
I have my own strength that keeps me going through hard times.
I believe in myself, and I have the strive to make my life amazing.
I have this consciousness now.
It's like being in the present all the time.
Well, almost.
We all know I space out.
But I know exactly who I am.
And that's really comfortable.

I MUST interrupt to tell you guys that Cheddar and Sour Cream Ruffles are amazing.

Anyways,
I really like myself.
I trust myself.
And I believe in myself

And he helped me get there.
Helped, I emphasize.
But, it's sad, I realize, that he didn't let me do my part.
In every relationship, you learn something from each other.
And in a good relationship, you continue learning.
And Bryan didn't learn from me.
I mean, I've tried.
I've tried helping him become a better person.
And help him put more effort to be happy in life.
But he just doesn't work on himself at all.

Everyone has to flow with the world.
The world doesn't flow with you.
He's spoiled and thinks most commonly about himself.
He is a selfish person.
But he doesn't know he is.
And it's not his intention to be.
Like, he is a good person, truly.
But he has flaws that take away from that.
But he can always change what he needs to.
And that's what I've been waiting for.
But he won't change.
He won't admit to himself the bad things.
Or when he does, he just gets depressed and succumbs to it.

This is really disappointing.
It's exactly what he did with Emily.
He thinks that relationships just fade over time.
He doesn't see he has to put in effort.
And not effort as in doing the dishes.
Effort as in seeing things that he needs to work on within himself.
You know.
When you realize that you're not giving back to your friends.
When you see you're taking too much from them.
It's the same in a relationship.
Sometimes you get too used to the luxury and get bratty.

My brain is dead.
It all boils down to his effort.
In himself.

Yes, I have been bitchy and naggy.
But I don't feel satisfied.
I haven't felt loved enough recently.
Because he just lets things fade.
He doesn't think about solutions.

This sucks.
I put all of myself into this.
And he won't put any of himself.
And this is all shoved in my face.
And I feel frozen.

I love him.
I really really love him.
And I want to still be there.
And play with him.
And I'm going to miss him a lot.
He was like a best friend, too.
Fuck, you guys.
Dude.
He really was like my best friend, even if he hurt me some times.
I really love him, and I loved being with him.
We just hung out too much and got sick of each other.
I wish he could just stay at his moms.
And we could still be together.
But not live together.
And just try that.
I'm really going to miss him.
I'm so sad.
This hurts a lot.
I wish he just saw the worth in me.

I AM OVER HAVING ANY CARE.

20.2.11

AND YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT.
I bet there are people who want to make ME feel good!
I bet there are people who feel good for making ME feel good!

I BET PEOPLE WOULD WANT TO TOUCH ME.
AND MAKE ME FEEL GOOD TOUCHING ME.
AND THEY WOULD FOCUS ON MAKING ME FEEL GOOD.
RATHER THAN THEMSELVES FEEL GOOD.


AND I BET I WOULD HAVE A FUCKING ORGASM.

I can't remember the last time.
Why is that?
Why am I without orgasm?

I bet there are people in this world who would love to give ME one.
And love to know they give ME one.
I bet it would make them happy.
I've been sick.
I want to be attractive and dress well again.
I have also decided to harden my heart.
I don't want to become a cold person.
I will become a chill person.
Slightly cool and slightly relaxed.
And I'm not going to need another human being.
No one is going to carry my soul in their pocket.
I am not afraid of loss.
I am prepared to lose the side of myself that searches for that kind of sunshine.
I'll carry my own sun.
Maybe there are people who see me like my friends do.
I bet some people may think I'm amazing.
And completely interesting.
And they don't make me feel worthless.
Or ashamed.
And I bet people will still like me even when I'm boring.
And when I've been shitty for a while.
I bet they'll still think I'm great.
And they won't make me feel bad about it.
I bet there are people who feel lucky to have me in their lives.
I bet they really do feel grateful for me.

AND I BET IT FEELS FUCKING NICE TO BE AROUND THEM.









14.2.11

I don't have my journal right now.
I am sleeping downstairs because I want to be nowhere near him.
And if I tried sending him down here, he would refuse and become extremely rude.

I feel deep, deep anger.

And I have lost trust for him.

How unfortunate.

23.1.11

Anonymous.

It's got to be some kind of dream.
I'm runnin' into somethin' I don't see.
She's begging for some kind of relief.
But the only thing she's grabbing for is me.

I don't recognize.
The sun without the flies.

You aren't as beautiful as you scream.
They stained your skin, you scrub until you bleed.
It's a falsified prophecy.
You're becoming who you thought you'd be.

Sorrow made of an observation.
They tell you things to make sure that you listen.

You became. Something new.
The sun was overused. 

Questions that you never seemed to know. How to.
Understand, so you lived it. All through.

Your words. Are made of dust.
Your teeth began to rust.






Oh.
Dumb girl.
Bile is slithering through my veins once again.

It must have become a boring thing to state.

The feeling is so familiar.
Like chugging water when you are parched.

I am full.
And it feels incorrect. 






His mother refuses to meet me.
He has supposedly brought it up multiple times.


Yes, stay ignorant.
Don't worry about your son.
Just ignore what is not comfortable.


The things she knows about me should bring curiosity.
A week and a year of self hatred does not always destroy a person.
Sometimes the sun shines through the graveyard.
And I got bones begging for vitamins. 
He calls it dysfunctional. 


I call it spicy.














I feel like I'm waiting to explode.
All of my energy.
That has been hiding for so long.
Because I'm slowly coming out in this town.

I want to be a rock and roll star.
A soul star.
I want to look like sex melted on the street.

I want to kill people when I look at them.
I want them addicted.
Bleeding for me.

And I only give them a mystery.
That brings them closer to themselves.

19.1.11

THIS SUCKS.



HE IS EMPTY.


HE CAN'T ACKNOWLEDGE ME.




I'm angry.
But I want it solved.
All I did was tell him to listen to me.
And appreciate me.
And respect me.
And he is angry now.
And cold.
Heartless.
He doesn't worry.
He doesn't lose sleep over it.
He cares nothing.
I am a side dish.
And replaceable.

He took my belt.

18.1.11

This just sucks.
This just.
Sucks.

People are inconsiderate. 

I want my computer to be my computer.
I don't want it to be the house computer.
I'm paying this off with my money.
And I don't want anyone else to break it.
Everyone breaks everything of mine.
I don't break my things.
Because they're mine.
But no one cares about my stuff.
Or my house.
And he can just go to his mom's when he doesn't like anything.
He can take him clothes and wash them there.
And I have to wash mine in the shitty ones.
But I buy the food that he eats.
And I buy the bed he sleeps on.
Oh no, wait.
It's my dad's money.
So all of my giving is worthless.
Because it's not really coming from me.


Everyone leaves everything out.
No one listens to what I say or ask for.
So I have to clean constantly.
And no one is grateful.
They can party and get drunk in my house.
And it's always clean when they come again.
But they don't see the effort.
No one sees my effort.
No one builds me up.

He's always putting me down.
And that makes me work harder. 
But I want to be complimented and validated.
And all my efforts are invisible.
And I am invisible.

No one does anything out of their way for me.
I feel like I'm just a slave for them.
I just fix everything they break.
And I leave them for two weeks.
And nothing is broken except my things.

And he doesn't even consider this my house because my dad is paying rent.
So, therefore, I shouldn't be offended that it is disrespected.
I am not respected.
And he is not thankful for me.

And I'm trying to get so much stuff together for is birthday.
And I hear he hates his birthday.
He is going to whine the whole time.
And I am going to feel worthless.
And once again.
He will not be thankful