Feb 26, 2007 23:16
I really don't want to go again.
fucker, why did I tell her I would go?
I WANT TO FUCKING STAY!
I don't need any more sad experiences.
Fuck your unwanted and unexpected therapy session, which took place in my room!
It's not my home or my house or my room or even my fucking ceiling fan.
And i guess it's no longer my own personal possessions since you're kids keep taking them without asking and keeping them.
I hate this still and I didn't realize how much I missed that until someone said it out loud and my mentality broke all into pieces.
It's so strange and I feel so strange, I'm cracked up, I'm at the end, I'm afraid.
What did I do tonight? Haha, why?
She's either scared of me or she wants to kill me, but I'm scared of me.
I thought it was funny and I thought it felt good, and it thought it was good that I was spending my time picking up a million shards of that plate.
It felt good using up all my energy screaming her name through her door as loud as I could and kicking and banging on her door for a half hour.
Gooooood I'm not getting better.