Fuck you, world.
Fuck my life today, seriously.
I didn’t even wait to get home to type this, because I need to fucking vent.
Oh where oh where to begin. I think I’ll start with Jenny Fucking Assbitch Alexander.
It wasn’t until class today that I remembered how much I truly loathe her, with such burning hate that I feel sick if she even gets close to me (or that might have been the really unflattering outfit that showed off 100% TOO MUCH CLEAVAGE FOR A40 YEAR OLD WOMAN. *retch puke retch*). I feel like I need to scream at something. We were fucking promised last year, as a class, that we wouldn’t have her again.
And I also discovered today that, despite my getting an A in my exam for her subject, she marked my coursework as a U. Which is fine and dandy, until you consider that I spent hours on it and was told it was a satisfactory piece of work. And that she decided the final mark for it.
Fuck you, Assbitch, fuck you.
Do you reckon they’ll pardon homicide if I tell them it was for the good of the future of the world?
Wait, they might honour her with a Darwin award.
I’m changing classes as soon as goddamn fucking possible.
I want to kill her. I want to make her suffer slowly in a cold dark place where there is no light or warmth or comfort. I want to still her tongue and remove her from this world in a manner that befits the stretched skinned, petty, gaunt faced, ill humoured, puss filled, poison spitting, sack of donkey shit that she is.
And yeah, I made that up on the spot. Creative aren’t I?
This isn’t making me feel any better. I need to vocalise. Or cry. Or punch something, I don’t fucking know. I haven’t hated someone this much since Peter fucking Day. And I did indeed punch him. Several times.
Maybe I should call Nena. She might laugh at my pain, bitch got out of that class as soon as physically possible.
It’s not fucking fair. I don’t need this shit at school when I have stupid family stuff going on at home.
I wish there was a way to punch something without hurting my hand.
Sunshine today is really contrasting with my mood.
You know, if my family ever find this and read it, they’ll be surprised with how spiteful and inwardly violent I can be. I mean, I am so patient with every piece of bullshit they pull out on me. Like last night. “LOL VACATE YOUR ROOM NOW DAD’S GOT PEOPLE STAYING OVER THAT WE INVITED WITHOUT TELLING YOU AND WE DON’T HAVE ENOUGH BEDS.”
I slept on my sister’s floor last night.
I’m not even going to touch the Corfu/Con incident that’s come up. What the fuck am I supposed to do when my parents want to take me on the last family holiday we’ll likely ever have, and my best friend and I have been organizing for months to go for a weekend to a Convention which will come around again, same time same place, in May. Parents have already paid, Corfu is far away and the only time I will ever visit Greece, and the Con is only two days and in London and very easily replicated. However, me and Nena have been organising this for the better part of a year, whereas my parents sprung this trip on me oh… five days ago.
Argh.
One day, I’ll snap. The limit to my patience will be found. And then I’ll scream and cry and act like the spoilt brat I want to be. I’ll tell everyone how I’m tired of putting up with their immaturity and their suddenness and their expectation for me to go along with whatever they say and their constant ragging on my character. And then they’ll hate me and leave me alone while I kick the shit out of a wall for my own stupidity because if I did what I wanted they’d never accept me.
And they wonder why I don’t like reality so much.
/drama.
I didn’t even wait to get home to type this, because I need to fucking vent.
Oh where oh where to begin. I think I’ll start with Jenny Fucking Assbitch Alexander.
It wasn’t until class today that I remembered how much I truly loathe her, with such burning hate that I feel sick if she even gets close to me (or that might have been the really unflattering outfit that showed off 100% TOO MUCH CLEAVAGE FOR A40 YEAR OLD WOMAN. *retch puke retch*). I feel like I need to scream at something. We were fucking promised last year, as a class, that we wouldn’t have her again.
And I also discovered today that, despite my getting an A in my exam for her subject, she marked my coursework as a U. Which is fine and dandy, until you consider that I spent hours on it and was told it was a satisfactory piece of work. And that she decided the final mark for it.
Fuck you, Assbitch, fuck you.
Do you reckon they’ll pardon homicide if I tell them it was for the good of the future of the world?
Wait, they might honour her with a Darwin award.
I’m changing classes as soon as goddamn fucking possible.
I want to kill her. I want to make her suffer slowly in a cold dark place where there is no light or warmth or comfort. I want to still her tongue and remove her from this world in a manner that befits the stretched skinned, petty, gaunt faced, ill humoured, puss filled, poison spitting, sack of donkey shit that she is.
And yeah, I made that up on the spot. Creative aren’t I?
This isn’t making me feel any better. I need to vocalise. Or cry. Or punch something, I don’t fucking know. I haven’t hated someone this much since Peter fucking Day. And I did indeed punch him. Several times.
Maybe I should call Nena. She might laugh at my pain, bitch got out of that class as soon as physically possible.
It’s not fucking fair. I don’t need this shit at school when I have stupid family stuff going on at home.
I wish there was a way to punch something without hurting my hand.
Sunshine today is really contrasting with my mood.
You know, if my family ever find this and read it, they’ll be surprised with how spiteful and inwardly violent I can be. I mean, I am so patient with every piece of bullshit they pull out on me. Like last night. “LOL VACATE YOUR ROOM NOW DAD’S GOT PEOPLE STAYING OVER THAT WE INVITED WITHOUT TELLING YOU AND WE DON’T HAVE ENOUGH BEDS.”
I slept on my sister’s floor last night.
I’m not even going to touch the Corfu/Con incident that’s come up. What the fuck am I supposed to do when my parents want to take me on the last family holiday we’ll likely ever have, and my best friend and I have been organizing for months to go for a weekend to a Convention which will come around again, same time same place, in May. Parents have already paid, Corfu is far away and the only time I will ever visit Greece, and the Con is only two days and in London and very easily replicated. However, me and Nena have been organising this for the better part of a year, whereas my parents sprung this trip on me oh… five days ago.
Argh.
One day, I’ll snap. The limit to my patience will be found. And then I’ll scream and cry and act like the spoilt brat I want to be. I’ll tell everyone how I’m tired of putting up with their immaturity and their suddenness and their expectation for me to go along with whatever they say and their constant ragging on my character. And then they’ll hate me and leave me alone while I kick the shit out of a wall for my own stupidity because if I did what I wanted they’d never accept me.
And they wonder why I don’t like reality so much.
/drama.