Ha.
Little freedom versus limited freedom.
I'm not smothered and isolated, but I'm still hunted down.
It's not because they care; it's because they think I'm stupid.
It's called paranoia, because I don't live up to anyone's standards.
I have my own. They're much higher. Believe me.
I know damn well why I'm miserable.
I know how to get out of it, too.
Not an irregular mood swing; I have every right to feel this way.
"You're against yourselves, that's the whole problem."
I hate you.
"It's pounded in to his head every day."
Ignorant cunt.
"Don't think of it as losing anything. You're losing nothing. You HAVE nothing. It's all your fault, bitch."
Oh lord.
I've done nothing wrong.
I don't see much negativity on my mother's behalf, either.
Could be worse.
I could be dwelling on those angsty thoughts.
You know.
The stupid ones.
"My parents don't love me"
"My parents don't understand me"
"I'm alone"
"Nobody gets it"
"I'm the only one that feels like this"
I'd literally kill myself if I ever began to think that way.
That's probably one of the most irresponsible things a person could do to themself.
For one, my parents don't like me.
There's a difference.
Of course my parents don't understand me;
I'm a teenager.
Who understands those?
I'm never alone;
I have myself, and I have my friends.
Nobody gets it?
I think it's self-explainitory.
I know for a fact that I'm not a dumb fuck.
I know for a fact there are worse things out there.
Other people feel like this.
Others can relate.
I don't hate my parents.
I don't really want them to die.
I just...hate the things they do and say.
I just...don't want them around me all the time.
I wish my dad would smarten up and see what he's doing.
And how 90% of it really is his fault.
I wish my mom could handle things better.
She's stressing herself out too much, and taking me with her.
I wish my dad could see that I'm not a bad person.
I wish he wasn't so full of himself.
I wish my mom would realise I'm not stupid.
I wish she wasn't such a bitch.
I wish they'd realise they're fucking us up.
I wish they'd grow up and raise their three kids properly.
One has anxiety/panic attacks, insomnia, and she used to isolate herself.
One is going to get sent to a foster home if he doesn't get the proper and decent attention he deserves from his father.
One has cancer and is easily hurt.
The anxiety and other mental disorders could've been avoided.
If they didn't do...what they did in the past.
The middle child would've been okay if his dad didn't...
The cancer can't be taken away by the family, but other medical needs could've been met.
If they weren't so irresponsible.
It's not my fault.
It's not Mikey's fault.
It's not Alex's fault.
It's the mother and father.
It always is.
Nothing brings me down.
That's what I have to be proud of.
I like myself.
I like the way I look.
I like the way I think.
I don't have to look inside my head and think that I'm stupid because someone tells me I am more than once a day.
I don't have to look in the mirror and hate what I see because someone tells me they do more than once a day.
I don't have to look at life with a frown and a sense of hatred and angst because that's the way I was brought up.
It makes me sad to see these kids that do.
Because someone has shown them only that way.
I wanna help those kids.
I wanna do something great.
I could be a doctor, I could be a writer, I could be a mother.
I could be the best at what I do, no matter what it is.
Even if I'm told I'm not.
Because only I know what I'm capable of.
And all of this that's happened in my past.
And all of what's going to happen before I turn eighteen, graduate, and leave...
It's not going to ruin me.
It's gonna make me better.
I have people around me that I love.
I'd do anything for them.
They support me,
They tell me what I want to hear.
Not just because they're friends.
It's because they care and they're honest.
I love them.
They're the family that matters.
I'm getting all emotional here.
I haven't smiled at anything all day.
But thinking about what I have makes me feel good.
On the inside.
The only place that counts.
I'm not smothered and isolated, but I'm still hunted down.
It's not because they care; it's because they think I'm stupid.
It's called paranoia, because I don't live up to anyone's standards.
I have my own. They're much higher. Believe me.
I know damn well why I'm miserable.
I know how to get out of it, too.
Not an irregular mood swing; I have every right to feel this way.
"You're against yourselves, that's the whole problem."
I hate you.
"It's pounded in to his head every day."
Ignorant cunt.
"Don't think of it as losing anything. You're losing nothing. You HAVE nothing. It's all your fault, bitch."
Oh lord.
I've done nothing wrong.
I don't see much negativity on my mother's behalf, either.
Could be worse.
I could be dwelling on those angsty thoughts.
You know.
The stupid ones.
"My parents don't love me"
"My parents don't understand me"
"I'm alone"
"Nobody gets it"
"I'm the only one that feels like this"
I'd literally kill myself if I ever began to think that way.
That's probably one of the most irresponsible things a person could do to themself.
For one, my parents don't like me.
There's a difference.
Of course my parents don't understand me;
I'm a teenager.
Who understands those?
I'm never alone;
I have myself, and I have my friends.
Nobody gets it?
I think it's self-explainitory.
I know for a fact that I'm not a dumb fuck.
I know for a fact there are worse things out there.
Other people feel like this.
Others can relate.
I don't hate my parents.
I don't really want them to die.
I just...hate the things they do and say.
I just...don't want them around me all the time.
I wish my dad would smarten up and see what he's doing.
And how 90% of it really is his fault.
I wish my mom could handle things better.
She's stressing herself out too much, and taking me with her.
I wish my dad could see that I'm not a bad person.
I wish he wasn't so full of himself.
I wish my mom would realise I'm not stupid.
I wish she wasn't such a bitch.
I wish they'd realise they're fucking us up.
I wish they'd grow up and raise their three kids properly.
One has anxiety/panic attacks, insomnia, and she used to isolate herself.
One is going to get sent to a foster home if he doesn't get the proper and decent attention he deserves from his father.
One has cancer and is easily hurt.
The anxiety and other mental disorders could've been avoided.
If they didn't do...what they did in the past.
The middle child would've been okay if his dad didn't...
The cancer can't be taken away by the family, but other medical needs could've been met.
If they weren't so irresponsible.
It's not my fault.
It's not Mikey's fault.
It's not Alex's fault.
It's the mother and father.
It always is.
Nothing brings me down.
That's what I have to be proud of.
I like myself.
I like the way I look.
I like the way I think.
I don't have to look inside my head and think that I'm stupid because someone tells me I am more than once a day.
I don't have to look in the mirror and hate what I see because someone tells me they do more than once a day.
I don't have to look at life with a frown and a sense of hatred and angst because that's the way I was brought up.
It makes me sad to see these kids that do.
Because someone has shown them only that way.
I wanna help those kids.
I wanna do something great.
I could be a doctor, I could be a writer, I could be a mother.
I could be the best at what I do, no matter what it is.
Even if I'm told I'm not.
Because only I know what I'm capable of.
And all of this that's happened in my past.
And all of what's going to happen before I turn eighteen, graduate, and leave...
It's not going to ruin me.
It's gonna make me better.
I have people around me that I love.
I'd do anything for them.
They support me,
They tell me what I want to hear.
Not just because they're friends.
It's because they care and they're honest.
I love them.
They're the family that matters.
I'm getting all emotional here.
I haven't smiled at anything all day.
But thinking about what I have makes me feel good.
On the inside.
The only place that counts.