(no subject)
Today is the magical day! I'm 18 *finger dance.* Sort of. The day was almost atrocious, but at best it was mercurial. Woke up (duh) went to school and got my phone taken away. My dad was calling during one of Swenson's lectures, to which few were paying attention. So it rang and I was sent to ISS. They definitely treated me like a prisoner, and it was unfathomable. I guess most people realized the absurdity, except of course my mom. STOOPID. She acts in so much bad faith, it rips at my heart. So at ISS (apparently this has been going on for years...) everyone was so institutionalized. It was appalling. I ended going crazy. I wrote all the shit down in sloppy-as-hell writing, and blew my nose on it, and turned it in. I ran out of the classroom before I could even communicate with the ISS guy. Thank God he wasn't a hardass. I don't know if I could have kept running. But I flew down the stairs and across the street.
Also: got a "tat." Pi symbol on my neck. I really like it, and I can conceal it if I'd like. It's so artful. But my mother was just completely heart-broken. Which was STOOPID! :[ (I'm really not that unsympathetic). I can see from "outside the big top" how she must feel- growing up with the ideal woman being a false sense of purity. Well, the falseness subside, I keep not fulfilling this arrogant image she has of me. That's okay; she doesn't understand. All she can do is read from over-generalizing self-help books, and stew. It breaks my heart, though. I can't wait to choose who I love and with whom I surround myself. You can only cater to someone's fragility for so long. She makes me feel like a deviant, which mixes terribly with the equation. But at least my grandmother and father, among other family members, seem to respect me.
Also: got a "tat." Pi symbol on my neck. I really like it, and I can conceal it if I'd like. It's so artful. But my mother was just completely heart-broken. Which was STOOPID! :[ (I'm really not that unsympathetic). I can see from "outside the big top" how she must feel- growing up with the ideal woman being a false sense of purity. Well, the falseness subside, I keep not fulfilling this arrogant image she has of me. That's okay; she doesn't understand. All she can do is read from over-generalizing self-help books, and stew. It breaks my heart, though. I can't wait to choose who I love and with whom I surround myself. You can only cater to someone's fragility for so long. She makes me feel like a deviant, which mixes terribly with the equation. But at least my grandmother and father, among other family members, seem to respect me.