It's been a long time. I probably made that the subject before.
So, yeah. I'm trying to use tumblr but between teenagers that are experiencing age-old stuff that I can only grin at here and there and people looking to start ethical debates, it's fucking exhausting. So I'm here.
I feel compelled to make something, despite the fact that I feel completely inhibited from doing so. I've been feeling ill with a swollen lymph node under my right jawline, and lately it's been feeling as though that entire side of my body is weak and sore. Unfortunately, that corresponds with the left side of my brain, so I'm assuming that I'm deprived of a substantial portion of my executive functions. For example, I've been completely aware of why my living situation sucks, but I can never do anything about it.
Actually, that's not new. I'm still finding it next to impossible to string together coherent thought, though. Maybe that's the cigarettes and adderall.
Here's the deal: I love my parents. In fact, I'm still hard-pressed to genuinely hate anyone. Some of my older entries probably made me sound like a cantankerous little bastard, but the fact is I just want people to be happy. I just thought things would be different in other places. I really did. Now? Well, I've finished high school, finished college at a really nice place with a good name, and just spent a full year trying to sort myself out. I guess I failed! Nothing's changed. I've taken jobs, quit jobs, traveled, and tried to settle scores with certain individuals. Yet here I am, angry as hell every time I wake up because the news' latest farces just cause my eyes to roll so fast that they allow me to see into alternate dimensions of rage and disappointment. I'm not even the one turning that shit on, either, but good golly god damn if I can get my parents to turn it off.
I had an opportunity to leave this behind and let it rot, wither, explode, or do whatever it's inclined to do in my absence. I even had a lot of good incentives to! Austin, TX is basically a great city for someone like me. It's got lots to do, it's full of people that aren't judgmental but even if they are it doesn't matter because they tend to be manchildren, and JOBS. But, naturally, I get an earfull of self-fulfilling deprecation from both parents that I'm too immature, loose-ended, and foolish to even THINK about planning my adult life at 25. They actually want me to stay here indefinitely.
I can't even think about starting my life here and staying forever. When I try, my thoughts always go to "well you can always just kill yourself and end the eternal chain right here and now". Northern Virginia is a black hole of culture and joy. It's where different people assemble to piss and moan about how great existence was back home, as they fight tooth and nail to make abso-fucking-lutely sure that their neighbors have to gaze upon their heritage as they engage in the loudest and most competitive pity-party I've ever had to watch. Virginians are always crying about how different the area is. Californians are always crying about how shitty our government services are and how people don't know how to relax. Hawaiians are always crying about the fact that they had to stop living in Hawaii for any god damned reason. Pakistanis are... Actually the Pakistanis I've met were cool about it. Some of them. The others sent us a VHS tape equating Christianity to worshiping sticks and snakes. They were assholes. I guess it takes all kinds.
Which brings me to the point I always want to make but never remember to. I've been brought up in an environment by a depressive hipster dad and his rageaholic, paranoid schizophrenic wife. Both are capable of love, sure, but both archetypes seem to inevitably use it as a constrictive tool to control and manipulate others into staying with them.
I can't finish this. It's just as pointless as anything else.
I feel compelled to make something, despite the fact that I feel completely inhibited from doing so. I've been feeling ill with a swollen lymph node under my right jawline, and lately it's been feeling as though that entire side of my body is weak and sore. Unfortunately, that corresponds with the left side of my brain, so I'm assuming that I'm deprived of a substantial portion of my executive functions. For example, I've been completely aware of why my living situation sucks, but I can never do anything about it.
Actually, that's not new. I'm still finding it next to impossible to string together coherent thought, though. Maybe that's the cigarettes and adderall.
Here's the deal: I love my parents. In fact, I'm still hard-pressed to genuinely hate anyone. Some of my older entries probably made me sound like a cantankerous little bastard, but the fact is I just want people to be happy. I just thought things would be different in other places. I really did. Now? Well, I've finished high school, finished college at a really nice place with a good name, and just spent a full year trying to sort myself out. I guess I failed! Nothing's changed. I've taken jobs, quit jobs, traveled, and tried to settle scores with certain individuals. Yet here I am, angry as hell every time I wake up because the news' latest farces just cause my eyes to roll so fast that they allow me to see into alternate dimensions of rage and disappointment. I'm not even the one turning that shit on, either, but good golly god damn if I can get my parents to turn it off.
I had an opportunity to leave this behind and let it rot, wither, explode, or do whatever it's inclined to do in my absence. I even had a lot of good incentives to! Austin, TX is basically a great city for someone like me. It's got lots to do, it's full of people that aren't judgmental but even if they are it doesn't matter because they tend to be manchildren, and JOBS. But, naturally, I get an earfull of self-fulfilling deprecation from both parents that I'm too immature, loose-ended, and foolish to even THINK about planning my adult life at 25. They actually want me to stay here indefinitely.
I can't even think about starting my life here and staying forever. When I try, my thoughts always go to "well you can always just kill yourself and end the eternal chain right here and now". Northern Virginia is a black hole of culture and joy. It's where different people assemble to piss and moan about how great existence was back home, as they fight tooth and nail to make abso-fucking-lutely sure that their neighbors have to gaze upon their heritage as they engage in the loudest and most competitive pity-party I've ever had to watch. Virginians are always crying about how different the area is. Californians are always crying about how shitty our government services are and how people don't know how to relax. Hawaiians are always crying about the fact that they had to stop living in Hawaii for any god damned reason. Pakistanis are... Actually the Pakistanis I've met were cool about it. Some of them. The others sent us a VHS tape equating Christianity to worshiping sticks and snakes. They were assholes. I guess it takes all kinds.
Which brings me to the point I always want to make but never remember to. I've been brought up in an environment by a depressive hipster dad and his rageaholic, paranoid schizophrenic wife. Both are capable of love, sure, but both archetypes seem to inevitably use it as a constrictive tool to control and manipulate others into staying with them.
I can't finish this. It's just as pointless as anything else.