Eight: Thirteen

Awkward moment when you ex’s mom texts you saying ‘You did him wrong.’ and the only reply you can think of is- “I don’t have enough characters to explain how wrong that statement is.”

I just don’t want it.

I never want to be close to another person again. I don’t want to expose myself. I don’t want to be trampled over. I don’t want to show my weaknesses. I don’t want to show my true form. I don’t want to show people who I truly am.

I never did.

But I did… Once… And now I’m in this situation.

Teeter tottering back and forth, wondering ‘what the hell have I done.’

I’m void of all emotions. I just don’t feel anymore. I can’t even lay down and listen to my heartbeat. It’s not there. I feel numb… But sick at the same time.

I’m so fucking sick.

I can’t take this. It’s like I already lost my mind and I’m stumbling everywhere to find it. I feel stupid, stupid for being weak. Stupid for not taking control. Stupid for feeling like this. Stupid for taking so long. I don’t have enough time in the world for this. I can’t get my shit together.

I’m never going to get close to another people again. I never want to show people who I am. I don’t matter and I never will. I’m just molding in with the rest of the population. A number without a name. 

Fuck everything.

My jaw is sore and my eyes burn. I don’t want to be hurt again. I don’t want people to use my past again me. I don’t want things to blow up in my face.

Why can’t I just be fucking happy? Why can’t people just see that it’s better to leave me the fuck alone? Why can’t I just live out my life with some of my sanity intact? I don’t care if I’m living an ‘unsafe’ lifestyle, I just want to be happy. I’m not happy now. I wasn’t happy then. But maybe my life in the future will be happy… Maybe if people will just let the happiness come to me instead of thinking they can force it upon me.

I don’t want to live the rest of my life pleasing people. I want to be selfish. I want to be by myself. I don’t want to be an open book. I don’t want people to know everything. I don’t want anyone to know EVERYTHING about me. I never want to reveal my secrets. I never want another person to be so close.

Because they always use it against you.

They learn your weaknesses… They learn how to strike you when you’re down. They learn how to get you back. They learn about revenge.

But they never actually care about how you feel. They care about themselves.

Cuz that’s all they ever cared about. They wanted to know how YOU ticked in case they didn’t get what THEY wanted. It was insurance. It was for their own safety. It’s only to help themselves.

I want to be left alone. I don’t want people close. I don’t want them smothering me. I don’t want them wanting to learn about me. I never want to open up again.

I never want to be loved.

I reject everything. I don’t want it. I don’t want people to care. I don’t want them to want to know me. I don’t want them trying to control what I do.

I’m an individualist.

I want to feel free but I’m not.

Because I’m broken.

Shattered and there is no way to fix me.

I’m tired of people who promise to be a fixer. I’m tired of people promising to change. I’m tired of people thinking they can change their whole personality. I’m tired of people not being true to themselves. If you have to change EVERYTHING about yourself to get with another person, it’s not worth it. It will only break you. It’s not real… it’s like you’re forcing two puzzle pieces to fit together when they obviously don’t.

Why can’t you be true to yourself?

I’m tired of people calling me shit. I’m tired of wanting to run away. I’m tired of remembering the truth. I’m tired of people’s opinions. I’m tired of the shit people bring. I’m just fucking tired of everything.

I don’t want to be held down. I don’t want to be in constant danger. I don’t want this at all. I don’t want people watching over me. 

I WANT TO BE MY OWN PERSON.

I JUST WANT TO LIVE OUT MY LIFE DOING CRAZY SHIT AND HAVING FUN WITH FRIENDS AND PEOPLE THAT DON’T JUDGE ME FOR WHAT I LOOK OR ACT LIKE. YOU DON’T NEED TO KNOW ME. 

Knowing me will only want me closer to you. Knowing me will only synchronize my heart with yours. KNOWING ME WILL START A LOT OF SHIT THAT I DO NOT WANT.

I should have known it would backfire. I should have known that I would get hurt so badly.

I’m a fucking crumbled up piece of paper, damn it. You know the bullying shit? No matter what, after you crumble up a piece of paper you can’t fix it with ‘I’m sorry’ or even with promises or petting/caressing it. You just can’t fix it. It won’t go back to normal…

And once the mental abuse damages that person- THEY WILL NEVER WORK RIGHT AGAIN. I fucking hate this shit. I can’t think straight… I fear everything. I fear people. I fear the world.

Why can’t I just not give a shit?

I don’t want to feel fear. I don’t want to feel like I’m a lifeline. I don’t want to feel like I should put on this whole ‘show’ when I don’t feel right anymore.

I JUST DON’T.

I DON’T FEEL THE SAME. I DON’T FEEL LIKE IT WILL EVER CHANGE. EVERYTHING JUST FUCKED UP.

Should I apologize for this? Is what I feel really my fault? Or should I just… continued to lie and feel unhappy until I probably committed suicide somewhere? Is it really that bad of a thing for me to do?

At first, I was ‘broken.’ I really thought that I was… I didn’t feel like my life had any meaning until I put meaning into it. I created this image of how my life should be. I opened up. I wanted to have some close friends and wanted people to know the real me. 

But that only gets you into more trouble. I’m sick to my stomach, I haven’t eaten in days. I’ve developed my eating disorder again and I’m okay with it. You know why? Because it’s what I choose.

Why can’t I move forward? Because I’m trying to crawl away with bloody limbs and I keep getting drug back.

I should have never opened myself up; I’m constantly punished. I look over my shoulder- wondering when the next attack is coming. And I can’t keep crawling because the words, ‘You’ll never do any better’ or even the ‘you’re ugly to everyone’ hold me back.

I really don’t know what I’m doing anymore. I don’t know what is next for me. I actually don’t fucking give a shit.

As long as I’m happy and can cover up the scars for a short while, I think it’ll be alright.

Or everything will end with another slice of the wrist… But I wouldn’t find that worth it. Especially since my scars… underneath everything… drive me forward to prove to others that they were wrong about me. I want to prove the world wrong. I will be stronger. I will be happy. I don’t want to just give in and show them that I am the weak person that opened up to them.

No.

I’m becoming numb.

You can’t rewrite history. The past will always be there. The past will HAUNT YOU. You can’t say to ‘forget the past,’ especially since the past isn’t the full problem. It’s that the attacks will continue. You know how to make me crumble and I don’t want that anymore.

I want to become detached. I want to become independent. I want to go through a whole day without giving a shit about anyone other than myself.

Why?

Because I’ve been neglecting myself for so long. I’ve let myself be used. I let myself get abused. I let myself get trampled on…. I can’t go through that anymore. I want what’s best for me, myself, and I. I want to have some great memories and don’t want to worry about what’s next in line.

Fuck that.

I don’t want to try to explain the same shit I’ve been trying to explain over and over again to you… I give up. YEAH? DID YOU HEAR THAT? I’M TIRED AND FRUSTRATED AND I DON’T WANT TO FEEL LIKE THIS ANYMORE. I know you just don’t get it. I just know.

And that’s what I hate… I hate when my voice isn’t heard. I hate when my thoughts don’t matter. 

I’m not going to sit here silent anymore though. I have my own voice. And I’m expressing how my brain functions now that it’s completely fucked up. How my train of thought crashed into the next station. How it’s not organized… There’s no other way to show you how I feel since you don’t listen to what I say. BECAUSE I CAN’T FUCKING SAY IT. I freeze because I become SELFLESS and think about how YOU would react. There’s a voice in my head going, ‘Don’t let him see how broken he made you, it will fill him with pride and accomplishment.’

I’m so fucking tired.

I want to be numb to this feeling…

I don’t want the drama. I don’t want to be used anymore. I don’t want you believing I’m something when I’m not. I don’t want you assuming. I don’t want you to fucking control me. I don’t want anyone to do that. Fuck everyone. I don’t want to even be near people.

Because people will hurt and continue to hurt and there is no stopping it. No matter how badly I try to stand up for myself- I can’t fight back. I’m too weak. Too broken.

Why can’t I be happy?

All the times you got mad cuz I was silent, I was too weak to fight back… I was too weak… My mind was jumbled. So many thoughts zooming back and forth that I can’t make out anything. I can’t make words come out. I can’t do anything like that. Don’t you see that you’re hurting me? Did you ever think that it was abuse? I know I did shit wrong. I know I did everything wrong. I know. I know because I was inexperienced. I don’t know how to act. I don’t know what to say. And instead of learning how to move forward, I was too scared to. I was too scared to move out of ‘your favor’… And I was too scared to be my own person. I had to be YOUR PERSON. I don’t like that. I don’t want to feel owned. I don’t like the feeling… It makes me cough and gag and not breathe…

I’m just not happy with not being true to myself anymore…

You should feel lucky though… I’ll never love anyone else like I loved you. I’ll never open myself up to anyone else like I have with you. I’ll never be as truthful to anyone else like I have with you…

But at least now I’m my own person. At least now I’m not property.

I respect myself. I sometimes feel like I even love myself now. You taught me that. How? Because with the stuff I was put through, I know that I should never be treated that way. I know it was wrong. I know that I can never look at you without seeing and hearing what happened. All the shit. Stuff I did wrong too… But I grew from it… I learned I should never get close… I should never put myself in that situation to begin with…

I’m not a prize.

I’m just ME.

And who am I? 

WHO FUCKING KNOWS ANYMORE.

Now I’m highly certain that there will be repercussions from this. There may be some blackmail…. And maybe some more threats… and yelling… But really… If you say you loved me, wouldn’t you want what’s best for me? Wouldn’t you want me to be happy?

Then you’re asking, ‘But what about me?’ Um… Would you rather have THIS happen or me LYING to you saying that I feel sane, that everything is peachy, that I’m not terrified of you, that I’m not having nightmares of the past and future, and that I’m TOTALLY FUCKING HAPPY? I learned from what I did… And that I love you enough to tell you the TRUTH.

I’m not being selfish right now- I’m thinking in your interest too.

But I do apologize for it happening so late. For my foundation to crack… for everything to fall down. For me to finally be able to face the facts that I am nowhere near happy. I put on a plastic smile, I force myself to be happy- but I seriously just can’t feel it.

I don’t want to feel threatened… When you threaten me with something stupid like that, it just feels like the same shit that bitch did with the death threats. The same shit where she turned everyone against me just because I didn’t feel the way that she wanted me to feel about her. I get scared about how people feel. I get scared about how the judge me…

And now I feel like I shouldn’t give two shits. Why? Cuz it feels like a norm to have someone threaten me. It feel normal to have someone who I used to associate with so closely to smack me down.

To ‘put me in my place’

I really expect there to be a bloody mess to this all. That it’s not just a simple- ‘hey, good thing you got your semi thoughts together, I hope you the best’ but that its going to end up with me getting hurt again.

And hurt.

And hurt.

And HURT.

And it will NEVER STOP. I JUST WANT IT TO FUCKING STOP.

I want to be human AND YOU’RE PREVENTING IT. YOU MAKE IT SUCH A FUCKING CRIME TO MAKE A MISTAKE. I’M FUCKING BROKEN AND NOW I DON’T WANT TO BE THIS CLOSE TO ANYONE.

NO ONE WILL KNOW ME.

I barely even know myself anymore.

I don’t know what I want.

I don’t fucking know.

I’m hurting so badly.

I really don’t know what I want out of life…

All I know if that I want to do shit I enjoy and fill my world with laughter.

I’ll find out shit along the way…

Cuz that’s what life is…

Learning.

After all the shit you’ve done, you can’t take this away from me. Please.

I can’t take promises.

I can’t take anything from you.

I just want to be left to find happiness wherever it may be.

You can’t force happiness to happen.

You don’t understand.

You’ll threaten me, won’t you?

You’ll call me a liar…

You’ll continue to hurt me

Just because I’m speaking the truth…

My opinion…

And you don’t like it.

Or respect it.

Fine.

Do that then.

HURT ME.

It’s not like I can become any MORE damaged.

It’s not like you actually care about me anymore.

Especially if you’re going to continue to hurt me…

I’m sick.

I feel so fucking sick.

Make it stop.

Make it go away.

Please.

In February, I began work on an entry for the ‘Design Ignites Change: Create! Don’t Hate’ contest. It’s a mentor/student collaboration where the two sides work together to create a billboard focused on the theme tolerance. It’s an anti-bullying, anti-discrimination, & anti-hate program that helps spread awareness of tough social issues.

On Monday, I received news that the three winners were announced and that my design was among them. Soon it will be up on a local billboard. I’d like to thank mentors who helped shape and focus my design onto one concept and Kevin who perfected the final look of my idea. 

However, that’s not the real reason why I’m posting this.

On Monday, before I found out I won the contest; one of my friends had passed away.

I heard the news at 10 p.m. from my boyfriend. I picked up the phone and started to yell since I hate when people call me after 8… But he was crying. Seriously crying. I stopped and began asking what was wrong and if something happened. All he could say is, “Ryan’s gone. He‘s gone.”

I felt like I was about to throw up at the news. Earlier I saw a facebook status asking if someone had seen him after school. It said, ‘call this number if you did.’ The status stayed in the back of my mind for the rest of the evening. I kept asking myself, “What’s going on?” Other than that, I didn’t actually think that something was wrong. I wouldn’t think that this would actually happen. Not here, not to a guy like him.

I cried for so long, just remembering that a week ago, I hugged him like I normally did. I was running late to class and bumped into him in the halls. We talked like normal, casual chitchat. He smiled, I smiled, and we laughed and had a few chuckles before we had to go different ways. Before leaving, we hugged. That was the last time I saw him. I can’t believe he’s gone.

The news broke out and there were several… reactions to his death. I wouldn’t join in with the rumors… I think it’s hard enough on his family as it is. The night that it happened, I couldn’t go to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I would see him. Simply smiling.

Ryan was always so happy. He was never mean and when he played around, he would apologize for anything that could be taken offensive. Even when he complemented someone, he would apologize if the complement sounded even a little bit awkward. He was so freaking sweet. He was compassionate and would be there for someone if they needed help. It never looked like anything was bothering him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him sad… He was always a happy little camper.

Once, I was crying in the hallways- or somewhere in the school… And he ran into me and asked what happened. I hadn’t talked to him in a long while then, and I explained what my situation was. He was understanding and listened to every word that I said. After that, he told me simply I should do what made me happy and to find my own path. He didn’t tell me what was right or wrong. He didn’t judge. He was just there for me. Then he began telling goofy jokes to make me smile. That always made me happy.

I’m not the type of person to make friends with easily but Ryan was so… kind. I loved that about him. He didn’t care that I looked ‘scary’ or ‘weird’; he would talk to me nonetheless. Once he even said that the term ’happy goth’ suits me well. He got along with all types of people in all different social groups. 

I always liked his complements. He would usually apologize afterwards for them, in case they were offensive or awkward. I personally liked when he would say stuff like ‘foxy mamma’ or stuff like that. I really do remember that coming from him. I laughed for a long while after hearing that one. The best one he said to me was that I looked really nice one day. Right afterwards, he put his hands up and said, “But don’t tell Daniel. I don’t want to get beat up.”

I laughed for so long and I told him that it was along the lines of ‘Ridiculous’ for Daniel to ever do that.

I’ll always remember the time we spent together. I knew him from middle school but really started talking to him in high school. He was in my health class in middle school though and I remember we sat across the room from each other. He signed my yearbook in eight grade, though I can’t read what it says underneath his name. He scratched it out, but it does include Tim Burton… I think. He helped me through Geometry Freshmen year, which was around the time we actually started talking. He was ridiculously smart too- witty and had a kind heart. We bonded over our love for video games. We mainly focused on capcom games, bring up all the Resident Evil and Devil May Cry games. When it was announced that Marvel vs. Capcom was coming out, he was excited for it. “The game sounds so freaking sweet.” He recommended a lot of games to me and had me expand my gaming library.

I didn’t see him much after that. Every time I passed him in the hall, I would say hi and sometimes stop to chat if we had the time. When I saw him in the lunchroom I would hang around him for a bit before he moved on to visit other friends. We’d hug and say, ‘See ya,’ because we always knew that we would see each other soon. Since he worked as a library assistant, I would often see him at the front desk. When I would walk in, I would hear a playful tease followed by a waved hand motion with, “Ah, I’m just kidding.” or “Haha, just messing with you.”

He was so freaking sweet.

He was so smart too… We took the same math class, though were in different periods. I had it 1st and he had 8th… I remember the math teacher talking about how he had gotten a 100 on a test and practically told us that we should be more like him. I tracked him down that way to tell him “good job” and joke about how much of a genius he was. We laughed, hugged, and went on with our lives. I knew that deep down, he was going to go on and do great things with his life. He had the brain and the heart to do so…

I just really want to know why this happened… Why it had to come to this… What I could have done to help him… What anyone could have done…

Rumors have been flying around for the past few days. A lot of people have been saying, “He must have been bullied at school.” Without knowing the truth, you can’t come to such a conclusion. Ryan was so down to earth, kind, and it wouldn’t seem like ’simple bullying’ would get to him. Who would actually mess with him anyways? Ryan was tall and broad-shouldered. Athletic. A wrestler. Though, I always imagined him as a gentle giant. I just don’t want the rumors to take over. The family is going through a hard time as it is…

Though, I will have to admit not all people were as kind to Ryan as he was to them. One, for example, being my ex-best friend. She wasn’t openly mean to him and wasn’t necessarily a bully. But it was the snide comments that she would make after he would talk to us. It seemed like she didn’t like him because he was thoughtful, cheerful, and always considerate. But that’s because of how she is… She doesn’t want to believe that there is anyone who is truly a good person out in the world.

I would just simply say, “Well she’s a terrible person in general and it’s not surprising that she would do such a thing.” But this is about Ryan and how great he was.

One of my favorite memories of him would have to be when my ex-best friend had gotten with her current boyfriend. When the news got to Ryan, his expression went blank. Then suddenly, he began laughing. He had such a light, lively laugh. “Ha ha ha ha, are you serious?” He quietly apologized for that too, in-between laughing. I burst out into my own laugher at that. 

The people who knew him have been visiting the bridge, saying prayers and mourning over the death of a bright young man. Others walk around like it’s every other day. They don’t give a damn in the world that such a wonderful person passed… But if it was them who died, Ryan would have cared. It’s called ‘compassion for other human beings.’ It’s called ‘not being self absorbed.’ When you simply say, “I don’t care because I didn’t know him personally,” means that you shouldn’t care if a famous/well known person passes away. Personally, you didn’t know that person. You shouldn’t feel bad that they’re gone. But why do you? Because if that person was a singer, you would miss their music and concerts. If that person was an actor, you would miss seeing them in new movies and on the news. You would only feel bad because something was taken out of YOUR life. Really, more people need to stop living underwater. You can’t hear, you can’t breathe, you’re DROWNING. It’s so dark sometimes that people can’t see the light.

Ryan was light.

Today, the rumors continued and people were still going on with their everyday things. I was checking on some friends to see how they were holding up when I overheard a guy pretty much saying, “I didn’t know the guy at all but I still prayed for him at the bridge. I’m atheist and even though I don’t believe in any God, I prayed that if I was wrong and that there is some kind of higher person upstairs, that he could take care of Ryan and look over his family.”

I wanted to hug that guy. Seriously.

What’s really bad is when people say that they saw it happen. Believe me, I’ve heard this constantly… Not right from the people’s mouths though… it was more of a, “Did you hear that so-and-so saw it?” It makes me sick. One: that if they were there when it happened, why didn’t they do anything? Two: if they were there and saw it, why weren’t they the ones to call for help. Why did they walk away? And three: if they’re lying- why would you lie for attention like this? It just makes you seem more messed up and more of a terrible person…

I also have to mention about a lady who has a job at a gas station down the road where it happened. One of my friends told me that when he was picking up water and other things for those who were grieving so much that they became sick… The woman at the cash register found out that he was friend with Ryan and knew that he was grieving over him… and said, “He shouldn’t have been playing on the rails then.”

I don’t know who the woman is… But if I did, I would certainly raise awareness to people of ‘what kind of woman’ she really is. Her family, her associates. Shouldn’t others deserve to know if someone is a complete bigot at heart? 

But the reactions from some people have just shown me how shitty my town is. People are so uncaring and hateful. Really, who would want to live in a world filled with these pathetic excuses? Some don’t know, others feel indifferent… But it’s alarming to know that many people have heard and frankly don’t care about it at all. No sympathy for the family… nothing for his classmates. Nothing. They’re just empty.

While I stood at the bridge, I watched with some others who were mourning, as people down below on the trail were jogging and riding their bicycles through a red stain on the path where my friend lost his life. His life ended right there and people are walking on it, whistling a tune while listening to their ipods. This was the day after it happened- and no one thought twice about it. 

I don’t know… Things have been really tough the past few days…And when I found out that I won, I couldn’t pull myself to be happy or even proud. But I think the poster should be dedicated to Ryan- not because of how his life ended but for how he lived his life. He respected others in a way that is rarely seen nowadays. He was open-minded too all, benevolent, and understanding. I think more people should be like that in the world. 

Intolerance locks your mind. Take the key. Open up. Be more like Ryan.

Ryan, I’ll miss you. I’ll miss running into you in the halls. I’ll miss your silly little teases and your sneak-attack back rubs. I’ll miss your compassionate heart and energetic laugh. I’ll miss your warm hugs and friendly smiles. You’ve been a great friend to me and I simply can’t believe you’re gone. I’ll miss you, Ryan. R.I.P.

Dear Ex-Best Friend,

………………..

Really? Really?

DO I REALLY HAVE TO USE CAPS TO GET THE POINT ACROSS??? BECAUSE I’LL DO THAT, DAMN IT!!! I DO APOLOGIZE FOR THE OVER USE OF CAPS BUT THIS IS SO FUCKING RIDICULOUS THAT IT HURTS ME. IT. TRULY. FUCKING. HURTS.

Let’s start at the beginning… You wanted to feel loved or whatever… Thus it overtook you to where you had an ‘OMFG Y U GUYZ NO PAY ATTENTION TO MEH CUZ I’M SO FLIRTY AND CUTE  AND HAVE PERFECT GRAMMAR AND EVERYONE LOVEZ MEH GUYZ’ complex… Then you started using your ‘friends’ to try to win this little game of life you had playing in your head. However you didn’t want to win in any other manner besides love. You wanted people to have their eyes on YOU. You wanted them to only notice YOU. You wanted them to love on YOU. And most annoying of all, you wanted people to pay attention to whatever you said- so you always rose your voice so EVERYONE HEARD YOU. Even if that included CHEATING thus making you sound PROMISCUOUS or that you have HIGH TESTOSTERONE which NO ONE WANTS TO KNOW IN THE FIRST PLACE, DAMN IT.

We noticed anyways, jeeze…

Then eventually… After observing your behavior when it comes to you and guys- oh, you know, how you would only fall head-over-heels for a guy if I liked them- that I devised a plan to get you out of my hair forever. I couldn’t deal with you threatening me anymore, copying me, etc… ( If you don’t remember, it’s all here ) 

You got knocked up almost right after you two started dating and it’s kind of pathetic that the blame for that COULD fall on me… I set you two up and forgot that you’re too dumb to realize that you’re not supposed to jump right into that kind of stuff at the beginning. You know, there’s a thing called talking. You do too much of it to begin with.

Oh yeah… you want to win against me… I guess being sexed up is winning? And not, ya know, love? That’s pretty pathetic. Jeeze. And talking about it IN CLASS??? Bleh- there’s thirty people in our creative writing class. THIRTY PEOPLE WHO DO NOT WANT TO HEAR THE CRAP THAT SPEWS FROM YOUR MOUTH.

Making out in front of the class too? I can hear your mustaches rubbing together from my seat.

Just stop.

I don’t know how many weeks along you are. All I know is that you where the same hoodie everyday and haven’t tried forcing yourself into skinny-jeans for quite a while… The miracles of pregnancy.

However, it seems that word has spread about how you really showed your true colors. I’m figuring your circle of ‘friends’ that you cling onto now have told you all about it. I’m only figuring this because, well, I SIT BEHIND YOU IN TWO CLASSES WHERE YOU TALK CONSTANTLY ABOUT YOURSELF.

Then, about a week ago, I heard something I somehow knew would come…

One of your friends leaned over your desk and whispered into your ear. I could still hear since you sit RIGHT THERE.

“Are you still leaving your boyfriend?”

You nodded.

You fucking nodded.

………………………………………………

ARE YOU THIS FUCKING STUPID?? 

No amount of caps-rage can express that mindfuckery I feel right now.

You’re PREGNANT with the guy’s BABY unless you’re LYING which you do LOVE to do. You talked about MARRIAGE and how you’re in LOVE and how you are HAPPY and pissed off all your true FRIENDS. You failed your CLASSES, spent all your MONEY, threw away your chances at COLLEGE, and all for a GUY who you’re going to LEAVE because you found out the thing I was proving to the rest of the world. THAT YOU’RE A FUCKING FAKE WHO THINKS LIFE IS SOME BIG COMPETITION AND WILL NEVER BE SATISFIED UNLESS YOU WIN!

GROW UP, DAMN IT! WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE FUCKING HAPPY WITH YOURSELF?!?! GAHHHHHH!!!

Why do I care so much?

Because this is so pathetic. I feel so sorry for you. All the lying, the death threats over DA that you claimed “weren’t from you, but could be a person who follows you”… the drinking, the drugs, cutting/burning yourself because you’re bored, copying what is deemed ‘cool traits’ so you seem cool too, even the occasional story of where you almost had sex with another person’s man while your brother was sleeping three feet away from you WHILE you were dating another woman- it all made me realize that I don’t hate you for all the shit you do… I pity you because you can’t simply enjoy life… You don’t take care of yourself, you don’t respect yourself… and that makes me sad.

You know what makes me happy?

Naps.

Kittens. 

Sunshine.

Cupcakes.

I might as well tell you… Since you deem it necessary to copy what people like and do… At least this time it will get you into less trouble.

Or more. Your mind is pretty fucked up.

I’m ending this since my mind can only take so much bullshit in one day. It feels like my nose is bleeding from this mind fuck.

Wishing You the Best,

- Simply Me

P.S. I’m eating cupcakes right now as I write this to you. They’re. Fucking. Delicious. I don’t know how you got pregnant when there’s such a thing as delicious fucking cupcakes around…

P.S.S. I’m sorry if there is too many grammar mistakes since I’m too lazy to read over it. Nobody is perfect though. 

So, I’ve been pretty dead lately… Last month, this huge wave of depression hit and it’s been hard to shake it off.

It’s easy to hide my depression at school since 4/5ths of the people there ignore me to begin with and the other 1/5th know I go through this every few months. When I’m like this, I am more likely to become sick… Which happened. Sucked. Took some time off from school and fell really far behind in projects and work. Graduation is coming up soon and I’m still in the stage of, ‘Can’t I worry about this when I feel better?’

Nope.

I keep having to lie to people saying I’m working on my projects and studying when I just can’t. In between making sure my mom is moderately healthy and forcing myself to wake up and struggle through classes everyday, I’m lucky if I even get half my homework done before class starts. Some teachers actually know what’s going on a bit, a few know about my mother’s illness and how the responsibility kind of falls on my shoulders- others have a good hunch that my mental state of mind is a bit off… They’re understanding and push me forward to keep me working so I don’t fall too far behind. Others are just like… dksjhjdkldjaklsjk….

But I think I’m pretty fucked when it comes to the thing about next year. I haven’t submitted a portfolio yet since it’s stuck at school. All I know is that I at least will graduate on time, I have more than enough credits for that…

What sucks about all this the worst is that when I feel this way… I can’t bring myself to draw and when I do I usually scrap it before I actually make anything. 

Me: I need to finish some projects. Maybe I should do some work on the tablet.

Depression: SIT YO ASS DOWN

Me: … But-

Depression: Y U NO LISTENING, BETCH?

Me: ……..Fiiiiiiiiiiinnneee….

Can’t miss anymore days of school, can’t take anymore days off… Just one more fucking month. One.

ONNNNNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

I was playing Civilization V…. Finally entered the industrial era and was beginning to build some railroads…

So let’s skip over the reasons why I started singing ‘I’ve been working on the Railroad’ and cut to the part where, due to my speech problems, I pronounce it WhaleWoad. 

Now skip to the part of how I can’t keep the image out of my mind of Barry Hatch singing it.

WhaleWoad.

WhaleWoad.

And dat look on Reaver’s face…

For my creative writing class- we used a random generator to help create a story. It gave us how to start it, words to include, and a setting… we just had to create the rest. Simple enough, right?

I was falling asleep slightly (of course) when the prompt was being generated up on the smartboard. It was presented in large, bold words… 

The setting:

By a fireplace. (okay, I can do it…)

What it had to include/ what words had to be included:

Splendid. (Can do…)

Blind (okay…)

Deviant (wait…)

Pirate (BAWAHAHAHAAHAAA)

How it had to begin:

‘The eight clocks in the room made it hard for…’ (*crying from laughter*)

Let’s just say… my creative writing teacher will probably have fun reading my story that probably belongs somewhere in ‘The Pangs of Sunset.’

I REGRET NOTHING

Play some Xbox games with my boyfriend all while talking in an Irish accent…

…Probably…