(no subject)
guess whos back!!!! i havnt really been on in a while because my internet hasnt been working, and that made me angry. but i finally got my mom to fix my computer, so its all good. well not really but who gives a fuck. it only lasted a month, and the last week of it, i knew what waas coming. and yet it stills sucks. i dunno maybe its just the whole over the phone thing that really gets me. anyway i had my thanksgiving tonight because my mom works tomorrow and she wanted to have thanksgiving dinner with her family. so we went to my aunts house and had dinner and just kinda hung out with my cousins. well i did. my brother brought hs girlfriend and got to leave early because she "wasnt feeling good", shich makes sense kinda sense she is about 7 1/2 months pregnant, but still i had to stay because i have to entertain my little cousins.i dont really care, its just boring. my brother convinced me to be a letter in LHS tomorrow. i think he is the L and im gunna be the H. my friend told be i should be the H because im a hor, and yes i kno it is spelled wrong. anyway im being the H and im gunna freeze my ass off, but its gunna be worth it i think. well thats it.
cya
coulter a.k.a dead man walking
here is a thing i wrote for my creative writing class. i call it, A DISFUNCTIONAL FAMILY CHRISTMAS. enjoy, just so you know anything in italics is the persons thoughts.
“Come on honey smile,” my mother gave me a cheerful grin that went up past her rosy cheeks into her warm caring eyes.
“Mom don’t talk to me,” I replied icily. Most wonderful time of the year, these people obviously had no idea what they were talking about. I walked into the kitchen and saw the cookie plate with just a few red and green sprinkles left scattered among the crumbs. The now empty bottle of eggnog sat on the counter, bringing memories of the previous night rushing in.
The line of light under the living room door was about as useful as I felt, useless. My parents had been fighting for about three glasses of eggnog and I was moving on to my fourth. When my parents fight, time doesn’t really matte, just the fact that they did meant that time was being wasted.
“What is wrong with you?” my mothers voice burst through the door, though it seemed slightly strangled, as if she was fighting tears.
“ You!” my father screams back. “I’m tired of you always b***hing at me. The papers come tomorrow and then I’m gone.”
I almost drop my glass but just barely hang on. The whole way back up stairs the same questions float around my mind. What papers, where is he going?
As I lay down on my bed I hear footsteps on my stairs and a shadows falls across my bed.
“Honey are you awake?” my mothers voice is dry from all the yelling and I can’t really tell but her lips were probably cracked. I don’t answer I just lay there not wanting to be told everything is ok and not to worry cause tomorrows the big day. As she walks out of the room I catch a glimpse of her face, mascara running, black streaks where the tears went by. The saddest face ive ever seen, and I really didn’t care.