There are times...
There are occasionally moments in my life that I'm glad I have a reason to not go to jail. Honestly, if I didn't have that drive to see Nyssa again tonight, I would have gotten completely smashed and shanked a few fuckers with the new knife I've obtained. Without hesitation. Don't care about concequences. I'm just fucking... pissed. To the extreem. To the point where, had I gotten drunk, I would probably be in the slammer right now.
But I didn't. And I won't. Not unless I have no other choice. And even then, I bet I can find some way out of it. I'd take a blow to the honor if I had to.
I... don't really want to know what's causing this mood. Drunken fucktards raging about the place, insulting friends? Annoying-as-fuck attention whores telling me that my friend -deserved- to get her arm broken? Maybe it's the fact that my parents tried to kick me out on the street? Or that when I broke back into my own fucking house, they'd taken all the food? I already panhandled for two bucks to get some fucking food today. I've said I -will- live on the streets if my parents are going to be like this, and I'll hold by it.
But that doesn't mean I want to. It'll be a hell of a lot easier on me if I do it by choice.
It just all seems to pile up at once: Starting with bullshit online and with friends in maine, then we added the bullshit from my parents. Following that came Donovan, Ethan, Shannon, Dorothy, and Darren. Made a few friends, ended up partying to all fuck every night for a week. Got my mind off the bullshit.
Well, then my parents kick me out of the house. Great, just great. Locked out of my own house when Nyssa could be calling me. Anybody could be, and that anybody could be someone I could talk to. Get my mind off of all of this god-forsaken bullshit.
Anyways, I'm out. Peace.
But I didn't. And I won't. Not unless I have no other choice. And even then, I bet I can find some way out of it. I'd take a blow to the honor if I had to.
I... don't really want to know what's causing this mood. Drunken fucktards raging about the place, insulting friends? Annoying-as-fuck attention whores telling me that my friend -deserved- to get her arm broken? Maybe it's the fact that my parents tried to kick me out on the street? Or that when I broke back into my own fucking house, they'd taken all the food? I already panhandled for two bucks to get some fucking food today. I've said I -will- live on the streets if my parents are going to be like this, and I'll hold by it.
But that doesn't mean I want to. It'll be a hell of a lot easier on me if I do it by choice.
It just all seems to pile up at once: Starting with bullshit online and with friends in maine, then we added the bullshit from my parents. Following that came Donovan, Ethan, Shannon, Dorothy, and Darren. Made a few friends, ended up partying to all fuck every night for a week. Got my mind off the bullshit.
Well, then my parents kick me out of the house. Great, just great. Locked out of my own house when Nyssa could be calling me. Anybody could be, and that anybody could be someone I could talk to. Get my mind off of all of this god-forsaken bullshit.
Anyways, I'm out. Peace.