Morning - done.

I feel a sense of, well not really futility, but almost. What on earth am I supposed to do? I mean, of course I'm going to stay home, do I honestly sound like the kind of person who will struggle to find a way to go to school when I never really want to go? I have the opportunity to stay home, and not of my own reasons.

I want to cry for some reason, and yet I'm also thinking up what I will say to L. if she brings up how I shouldn't be staying home so often, I'll go over my days, how stupid I'm being, and so on, and I'm imagining a sharp rebuttal. In my head, I get angry at her. You know what? That's called 'displacement.' Yay, psychology does have some bloody relevance in my life, and it seems I do have the ability to remember it and apply it. Yes, straight face to write this. No, this doesn't make much sense.

I find getting angry is so much better than getting sad, yelling infinitely preferable to crying. But, don't you need something to yell at, someone? I don't have anyone. Unless I yell at myself, or I yell at my cats. The latter of which doesn't really deserve it, the former I'm not so sure about. But in either cases, will it be altogether sane if I do so at random? Especially if I've been crying. No. Not really. But what the hell am I supposed to do?

My mom is drunk, unable to drive me to school. I hate asking for rides, I hate asking for favors, and I really hate letting other people know how fucked up my life is. Wouldn't it be the best option if I simply pretend like today was just another one of those days that I don't really want to go to school. Fuck, now I'm crying. And both my cats are staring at me. Always an audience when you least want it.

Deep breaths. I need to wake my sister now so she can get ready for work. She can't know that I've been crying. After all, mommy says don't let her know. Don't let her know that I have to stay home because she has to drink. Fuck. Why does this have to seem so hard?

This blog feels pointless.

So why do I write in it? I don't know, the illusion that someone is actually listening to me.

I'm going to talk about something that I don't talk about, really. It's an uncomfortable subject sometimes, I think. I'm getting fat. There, I said it. :D *shakes head* I mean, this is not good. Really not. No matter what I can't seem to work up the energy to work out anymore. I can't ride my bike, because there is still snow outside. And everytime I want to ride my treadmill, I always come up with one or another excuse. I'm sick of it. Bloody sick and tired of my own excuses. It's either too late in the evening, too early in the morning, or someone is taking a nap. Or like right now, I can't because I'm supposed to be waiting for some guy to come so he can repair our washing machine (again). That's the only reason why I'm up so outrageously early (9 o'clock. yes, that's outrageous to me). My stupid asshole of a cat woke me up at 630, because he wanted in. A quarter of an hour later, he wanted out, then he wanted in, then he wanted out, then he wanted in, and finally, by then, my other cat wanted in. I mean come on! Bloody bastard of a cat, I was ready to strangle him, literally, but he scurried under my bed the last time, so I couldn't get to him. *takes a moment to scream in frustration*

Deep breaths. Last week was absolute shit. I went to school Tuesday and Friday, and that was it. I just couldn't seem to get anything together. I have theory: the less I sleep, the more my chest hurts. I could believe it. It wasn't until Friday morning that the fog, the haze drifting over my mind, had lifted. I was in a good mood friday morning. Until I had to go to lunch and then math. *shakes head, jaw tightens* Bloody teacher gave the class a quiz, which I had to take, and out of seven problems - I could do one. It was multiple choice, we could use our calculator, but we had to show work. Unfortunately, I didn't know a damn thing. Every answer I got, even with the calculator, was wrong. I was so pissed off by the end of that. Oh, and we have a chapter test on Monday. Yep.

Plus, at lunch, I even yelled at my friend. She deserved it, with the way she was treating me last week. But still. It felt nice, I just wasn't able to stay angry for long. We were in the middle of the cafeteria. I wasn't able to get in the amount of yelling that I wanted to. I'm still pissed off. And everyone seems to be able to do obnoxious things with alarming regularity now. And every fucking time I bring up the fact that I need to drop one of my classes, because I can't handle this level of stress, one of my friends always feels fucking obligated to lecture me on how easy the class is, and how we don't really have a lot of homework, and I just want to tell them to fuck off! I know it's not a hard class. I understand that. I'm not an idiot. But it's getting to the point where I'm going to either, let's see, barely keep my head above the fucking surface, or drown. I'm trying to carry too much with me. I need to drop things. I simply, personally, can't handle this level of stress. It's too much for me, mentally and physically.

It hurts to breathe, it feels like a needle is in my heart, and tension headaches are becoming a regularity, now. I'm just not equal to this at the moment.

And then L. has decided that I'm her personal fucking psychologist or something. She uses me to word vomit to. Every day. I'm sick of her projecting her fucking life onto me, because it is always the same, and it always ruins my day. She brushes off my life, because she doesn't even care, and she always treats me like a fucking child. I'm reduced to elementary school status in her goddamn eyes. Because apparently, I can't think things through, I can't do things right, and I'm just plain stupid. She's superior, blah blah blah. Lectures, sure, from teachers, okay. From friends? Not a bloody chance in hell. She really just pisses me off now, I can't stand her. And the story we were supposed to be writing together? Yeah, she blew me off, let's see, count it, six times last week. "I'm just trying to focus on my scholarships, I'm not even going to look at them (the chapters, because she just has to edit my shit) until I've got everything done." Yeah. Fuck you. That's all I want to say to her. FUCK. YOU. But the main character was supposed to be based on her, which really just turns me off the entire story, frankly. I don't want to write about her, and every time the fucking character shows up in even the slightest of bad lights, she gets offended. Yeah. The character is not her. It's based on her. Just because she's a total bitch, doesn't mean the character is going to act like one, huh? Just because the character might go on one too many ranting rages, or acts like a fucking child, doesn't mean she does too. God! I just don't want to write the story anymore. And it's all her fault. If she wants to bug me with "oh, we need to work on the story" yeah, I'm just going to tell her, "not right now, I'm not even going to look at the story, at least not until I've got this or that done." If she wants to finally contribute to this story (which she wanted to begin in the first place), and not in the form of edits which ruin my own style of writing, she can just fuck off. I'm through with her. I'm going to write on my own book, so that I might actually get it finished by the end of the fucking year. I'm not going to waste my words on something that means so little to her. I'm not a door mat. And she needs to realize that.

But anyway. I'm still waiting for the fucking repairman to come. It's almost 930. This is getting obnoxious. And I'm really pissed off, if you can't tell. Thankfully, I haven't resorted to screaming at my computer screen yet. That would be bad.

Songs of choice?
Face Down - The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Had Enough - Breaking Benjamin
They say it all.

Currently . . .

. . . waiting for my sister to get done in the bathroom so I can brush my teeth. Boring, antsy, I must admit I'm a little nervous about today. My schedule, for the first time in ages, is going to be really different. Plus, I'm going to have a different lunch hour. I've had the same lunch hour all four years, and now I'll be having lunch an hour later than usual. My stomach won't be pleased. It will be stubborn in changing, but honestly, it won't take but two days to do so.

Ah look, there she goes now. Guess it's time to finish getting ready. :D

Ta!

Ahh!!!

Where did I disappear to?!

The answer: Finals. I disappeared underneath the great mound of homework every teacher of mine is piling on before finals, to ensure we've got as much useless, unremarkable information stuffed into our heads as is teacher-ly (Make note: I do not say "humanly") possible. I've had three, cumulative, literary terms vocabulary tests this week in English. Our final is going to be over 75 words, and not easy ones, the nice complicated ones. A presentation for Physics, about six assignments in Calculus (which I don't understand in the least), more translation of the Aeneid in Latin, and probably more I'm forgetting. *gives huge, gusting sigh*

On the bright side, my powerpoint for Physics is brilliant, to say the least. *smiles proudly*

Yet I'm tired of sitting at a computer, it's hurting my neck in excruciating ways. :D My fault, I know.

I won't even begin to attempt to describe to you this time exactly how irresponsible, and immature, and selfish, and very 13 year old-ish, my mom is being at the moment, it will simply make me too angry. Let me simply say it involves a man she has chatted with online for less than two weeks, lives in California, is unemployed, and is now staying at our house (per her invitation) for the next four days, all with the intent of "getting to know each other." She's putting my sister and I at risk by allowing a complete stranger into our home, she's spending money on food we can't afford simply to impress him, and she's taking three days off of work to entertain him, though we can't afford that either. I think this is the first time in two years in which I've had so much good food in the house to eat (as in fruit and jam). *clenches jaw* It's ridiculous that the only people she cares to spend money on are her "boyfriends," and not her daughter. The only person she cares or thinks about is herself.

I'm sick of it.

Oh, and I have to do all of my college apps this weekend. I don't want to, as most of the colleges I wanted to apply to have passed their deadlines (because I was intent on giving up that particular venture altogether and simply going to a state school, until my stepdad forcibly convinced me otherwise (over the phone, don't worry)) and it is quite simply petrifying to think of doing all of this on my own (because guaranteed, that's how it is, and will, be).

On the bright side, I made my grandmother's recipe, the mystery bars, and they were absolutely divine. Literally. They're better than the brownies, and I didn't even make this batch particularly perfectly either. Everyone at school simply devoured them (myself included, lol).

On the bright side, I'm reading an excellent and extremely fascinating Fantasy series called the 'Riddle Master' trilogy by Patricia A. McKillip. I'm loving it, though I don't normally delve into the fantasy genre.

Do you think it would be feasible to drop my AP Calculus class next semester? Or simply: insane. If it will drop my GPA, as it's going to this semester, thus rendering me ineligible for Valedictorian, what's the point in taking it? I see none, I do not require it to graduate, and most schools really only want 3 years of Math, after all. Huh. My counselor probably won't let me drop it though. Damn. I don't like this, not at all.

By the hour.

It's looking like about 48 hours exactly since last I slept.

I'm not too bothered with it, this whole lack of sleep, but I know if I chose to, I could fall asleep without a seconds hesitation. Easily. But. . . . I won't. Yet. I'll go to bed early tonight (my first of break) but I won't go to bed now. It's too early. :D

So I've gotten a record number of gifts this year, let's see: One each from W. & A., one from L, one from B., and two from M. (He honestly shouldn't have, what am I going to do? He thinks I like him, and he just won't back off. I can't stay nice while telling him that I don't like him, to back off, to leave me alone and get over me. The only recourse would be to be mean and blunt, and I couldn't do that to anyone.) I'm absolutely overwhelmed, and I feel guilty too, for not having gotten anyone else anything. I am, after all, next to a pauper. :)

I have an idea in my head, for gifts. I kind of want to find a poem for each person I'd give a gift to, a poem that reminds me of them and fits them to perfection. Then, write that poem on a beautiful piece of paper (cardstock), which I'm sort of out of. Lol. *rolls eyes*

All I have to do is expend that effort to first find the poems, then find the paper, then write with the best script I can. :D I wonder how that'll pan out.

Anyway, that's what I promised myself I'd do right now, instead of typing a post, so I'm going to end this here.

PS. Vacation!!!! :D

*long-suffering sigh*

What am I going to do with her?

Hideaway - The Weepies
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WEo0OHoRlmY

Bitch.

My mom is being such a bitch tonight. Well, that's every night, but right now she's really pissing me off.

She wants me to hurry up and finish my research paper for English, a paper worth nearly 200 pts, so that she can chat online with a bunch of fucking idiot guys who are saying that they 'love' her after one or two times chatting online. Is she fucking crazy?!!? When I told her that One: it's my computer, and TWO: I'm doing homework and she's not, she says "I've had to raise you guys, it's time for me to have a life. Do I not get to have a life?" Are you fucking kidding me?!? Does she want me to have an A in this class, or a goddamn C?

I could just rip her head off, scream to oblivion. She's such a fucking child, she acts like she's thirteen, and this computer is her goddamn world. She doesn't even know these fucking, gold-digging people. That's all they are. Goddamnit!!!

Can you tell I'm a little pissed off?! This is why I can't stand to be here anymore. I don't have a parent, I have a child I have to take care of. And it's always about her, isn't it? "I don't have a life, do I not deserve one?" I just want to get on the goddamn computer to do my fucking homework when she's been on all day, literally, chatting. Petulant, spoiled, immature, childish bitch. And you know what? The only reason she's still talking to these guys, though she knows they only want the money she doesn't have, is because they're flattering her, making her feel better, so she continues talking to them, hogging the computer, sitting here getting my keyboard all full of crumbs and shit. (!!!!!?LKE#$JNM@#$*&A%&@_+!!!) Why do I have to have a child for a mother?

I really hope I get my own laptop for christmas, because I cannot share a computer with her anymore. I'm not even getting to use my own computer. If I want to use it, I have to get on after 11 o'clock, or before 6:30 in the morning. Seriously. This needs to stop. And she really needs to grow up.

Who needs a bloody title?

"Who said that it's better to have loved and lost?
I wish that I had never loved at all."
-Up Against the Wall (Boys Like Girls)

I'm really trying very hard not to think about this, because I'm sure I'll simply make myself more nervous and afraid and less likely to do it. Family is supposed to be there for you, right? Forever, no matter what? *shakes head* It isn't like that anymore. The ties between members are more fragile, thinner and less of a bond forged to protect against the outside world.

We're all on our own in this world we call home.

If you're wondering who I'm talking of, it's my father. Or used to be. Why does it always seem to be the father, when you're talking of that one family member who isn't where they should be? Well, except in the case of L. The roles are reversed in her case. But nevertheless, it's him. I want to fashion a present for him for Christmas, or maybe New Year's. A note attached "Because I'm trying not to be vindictive." I don't know if I'll ever send said present. I probably won't. And if I do, I'll likely be crushed when I still don't hear back from him, like it's been for the past four years.

My invisible words.

I know I've told myself, and my mother, that I don't really care anymore. But I'm not the kind to just abandon a relationship, of whatever nature it is, with no regard for the other involved. I'm not the kind who can simply give up, not try at all. I want to believe that October of 2004 isn't the last I'll ever hear from him, that the letter he sent won't be the last he ever thinks of me. I've always wondered, or at least I have recently, if I'll never hear from him again until that one day I get a phone call, the phone call. Am I still in his will? Or will I never hear from him again? Not a single word exchanged, nor thought provoked.

It hurts, obviously. You can't live through this sort of rejection without wondering, without thinking or believing, that it's your fault, your flaw. His reasons are entirely unknown, so I can't help but ask myself over and again if it was something I did or didn't do, if I simply wasn't good enough, if I simply wasn't enough. I shouldn't blame myself, but somehow, for some reason, I still feel it's my duty to mend this rift, if that's all it is, my responsibility to make the first move, because I still remember him, things related to him, so many memories that can't ever fade. He's part of my past, but can I accept that he might not be a part of my present, my future? Will he never know of me again after I've turned eighteen and graduated and he isn't required to send child support every month (though he's only sent it sporadically at best since last year)? Do I mean so little to him? Does he even think of me at all?

Perhaps that is part of where my drive to get good grades comes from. If I can manage a 4.0 GPA all four years, I'll have something to rub in his face, something to show and say "See, I really am worthy of your time. Please look at me." Pathetic even in my own head. Would he ever feel pride? Regret for not being there? Indifference? If I can manage complete control of my own life, does that make me worthy of his?

I'm procrastinating, though. I'm forgetting the Common Application, my Physics lab report, my English paper, my sleep. I'm abandoning myself in the hopes it will all work out on its own.

Oh,

Did I mention?

When I told my mom (the source of my need to get out of this damned house) that I'd started knitting, she replied in a short, unsurprising sentence:

"It's easy to do."

Gee Mom, thanks. That's not really the point, is it?

She wonders why I'm pissed at her.

Let me guess.

Back, not that you missed me.

I took a bit of a "sabbatical." Or rather, a vacation from home. I couldn't take it anymore. I came home Thursday after school to grab my things, and then I went to a friends house. I just got home tonight. *looks down* I'm fighting tears, but when has that ever been new lately?

I didn't forget to write in my journal, so I'll just type that here. It isn't very long, but gets to the point nicely.

12/4 - Thursday
There is a voice screaming inside my head. A wordless sound.
But I am silent, very much so. More than ever before because this is a subdued, must-stay-contained silence. I am unobtrusive, more so than ever.
I'm staying at a friend's (L.'s) house.
This can't go on, can't continue.
I'm not sure I can stay at my house any time soon. Tomorrow is Friday, then there's the weekend.

12/5 - Friday
There is a wordless panic in my head.
My MP3 is dead. I have nothing to drown in, nothing to drown out the voice that continues to scream emotions at me; wordless, chaotic and desperate. I am adrift and lost. I'm not sure how to cope without that numbness.

--

The first couple movies we watched, I couldn't even pay attention to them, I couldn't focus on them at all. I haven't completely eliminated that voice in my head, but I'm trying. I'm back home here, Sunday night. I'm not sure if I want to be, but I need to do some laundry in any case. I'm going to start an experiment. When I was getting ready earlier, before I left for home, I looked in the mirror, and my eyes were a nice clear, bright, soft green. They were beautiful like that, I'm not sure it lasted very long after walking back into my front door. I'm going to check and see how their color changes. What moods produce which colors.

My friend assures me I can stay at her house. I'm tempted. But even her house can become too much. I don't know. I don't want to feel the burden everywhere. It's inevitable at home, and it's becoming more so with L. This really sucks.

I've learned how to knit. I'm rather proud of myself. I started yesterday, and I've already finished a scarf tonight. I'm rather fast, it's pretty cool. This is almost a relief. Knitting is almost like doing origami, reading, listening to music: repetitive. Endlessly the same, easy to get caught up in so that the time flies for you, swift and fleet. I'm glad. Now all I need to do is buy yarn and needles with money that I don't have. I'm thrilled. . . . . Sense my sarcasm?

Yeah, me too.

If I relax my face, if I don't pay attention, my eyes will widen in panic I'm sure. I'm not really sure how I'm going to get through the next few months.

"I Still Ain't Over You" Augustana
"Scars" Papa Roach
"Right Here" Hawk Nelson
"Rain" Breaking Benjamin
"I'd Rather Be With You" Joshua Radin

My mom is a child,

And because of that, I'm seriously considering moving into my friend's house. She's offered, and she has a spare bedroom, a big house. It would solve so many things, though of course, still complicate others. But honestly, I don't know how I'm going to stand living another six or seven months here.

Now that my sister has moved back in, both of their god-awful, obnoxious, frustrating habits have amplified by ten. If such a thing could be said, they're running me up the walls. They are both such slobs and hypocrites. And my mom is so *?>!@W!#* stubborn that I can't stand to be around her anymore. Stubborn pride. The worst kind.

I never imagined I would seriously consider leaving this house before I graduated, but right now I can't even consider staying. *sighs heavily*

Enough ranting. I have a test to study for. And my mom just got home. Great. *rolls eyes* Ta for now.