So fucking dis-conjointed, don't waste your time.
UPDATE! Last journal entry now in void. He seriously decided that he was better off a homosexual. I've got a new main squeeze: Tim. It's been over four months now. And now for the meaningless ranting and retarded teenage bullshit. Please don't read, it's just that awful.
And so, life as always has made a turn for the worse. When else do I come running to my technological shoulder to cry on? I've noticed a few small changes that have caused serious evaluations on my friends and their behavior. I'm tired of being the ass of everybodies joke. I'm tired of being betrayed by my "friends"((Notice the plural, this is more than one person)) who think it's their business to tell people my business. If I confide things in you, I trust you. If I wanted everybody to know, such as co-workers or lesser aquaintences, I'd announce it to the world. Don't randomly pull things out of your ass to irritate others who have done nothing wrong. Don't catch other people in our crossfire. Obviously if there's an issue with me, it's more than likely just with me. To resolve your issue, all you have to do is talk to me about it. I don't like getting upset with people and driving myself insane becuase I'm too big of a pansy to confront them myself. I know I'm known to have "been around" and a pathological liar. But I don't have time to try and impress people anymore. I've put it behind me and it seems that nobody else can. Yes, I've lied. Yes, I've had more sexual partners than I care to of. Yes, I've been impressionable and a slave to addictions good and bad. But I don't regret my life in the least. I'm proud of the feats I've overcome. I'm proud to be who I am with the few acceptions that are easy to mend. It's a new adventure every day. Coping with things that disolve my insides just thinking about them (literally, I have ulcers).
The past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster. Contradictive thoughts, fears of infidelity, false accusations found to be true, innocent death, getting caught up in quite the predicament, the non-ending fourty plus hour work weeks. It's a lot for a girl my age to handle. There are days when I feel like I'm hitting my mid-life crisis, which is thirty some years from now. I'm not sure who I am or what I think. I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure. Being selfish hasn't been an option lately, but I still acknowledge the fact that I'm very non-empathetic and probably an awful friend. I swear I don't only care about myself, no matter how bitter I seem.
My time off seems so absonant. I sit in the human wasteland known as Denny's, pound cup after cup of cheap watery coffee, and smoke more than should ever be allowed by a single person. How typical and angsty of this little teenage babe, but as pitiful as it seems, I enjoy it. I feel like I belong there, with the apprehensive, cheap, downtrodden "individuals".
I know I've been lamenting, but it's hard not to. Learning to keep my mouth shut has never been so difficult. Home life has never been so intollerable. Friendships have never fallen apart so quickly or without such small warning. Life has never seemed so valuable. In my homelife, I've been thrown into growing up. To be what I'm nowhere near. An adult. Able to do whatever I'd like. I need to calm down and act my age. My family lectures me on how it's okay to make mistakes and that they only care about me, they really only care about me getting out of their lives. No, this isn't some desperate cry for attention. My family really does hate me. They really do want me out. They don't care about me, especially when I do good for myself. Only when I fuck up, then it's a big contraversy. I just feel so dis-constructive. Detached. Unhappy. Ill. But I'm just goofy little Bran-bran. I feel selfish and wrong if I portray myself else wise. But I can't do it anymore. I've been stepped on for too long and I'm reaching that age where all of this isn't really an option.
I'm a "plan" kind of gal. I like knowing where I'm going with things that will affect my life greatly. I know I'm not the epitome of matuirty or grace, but I like to pretend. Those games were always my favorite as a child. You could decide the out-come of the day, a choose your own ending story. Wheather you were retributive or had a fairy-tale ending, you were satisified. Too bad real life is nothing like pretend. You're not a child anymore when you realize that you have to grow up, get a job, do what's expected of you, and eventually die. We all live happily ever after, my ass.
In death, everything you've accomplished will more than likely not be remembered and it'll of been such a waste. Something I find so much comfort in is nothing but the scariest reality. It makes me hope that there's an after-life despite my beliefs that I've pounded into myself. I thought I was a narccist, but I'm too self-evasive.
Speaking of death. March 13th is less than a month away. Not only a birthday, but a deathday. My brother. Never have I seen my family so upset. I'm not sure if it's becuase of him or becuase I'm not eighteen yet. I have no plans but to work durring the morning. Fuck if I'm sitting at home alone mourning his loss. But that's all I really have for now, I've completely drained myself of all emotion or feeling. If you read this, I oughta punch you directly in the fucking face for being just that pathetic, but maybe it means you care. Or possibly that you're just that bored.
And so, life as always has made a turn for the worse. When else do I come running to my technological shoulder to cry on? I've noticed a few small changes that have caused serious evaluations on my friends and their behavior. I'm tired of being the ass of everybodies joke. I'm tired of being betrayed by my "friends"((Notice the plural, this is more than one person)) who think it's their business to tell people my business. If I confide things in you, I trust you. If I wanted everybody to know, such as co-workers or lesser aquaintences, I'd announce it to the world. Don't randomly pull things out of your ass to irritate others who have done nothing wrong. Don't catch other people in our crossfire. Obviously if there's an issue with me, it's more than likely just with me. To resolve your issue, all you have to do is talk to me about it. I don't like getting upset with people and driving myself insane becuase I'm too big of a pansy to confront them myself. I know I'm known to have "been around" and a pathological liar. But I don't have time to try and impress people anymore. I've put it behind me and it seems that nobody else can. Yes, I've lied. Yes, I've had more sexual partners than I care to of. Yes, I've been impressionable and a slave to addictions good and bad. But I don't regret my life in the least. I'm proud of the feats I've overcome. I'm proud to be who I am with the few acceptions that are easy to mend. It's a new adventure every day. Coping with things that disolve my insides just thinking about them (literally, I have ulcers).
The past few months have been an emotional rollercoaster. Contradictive thoughts, fears of infidelity, false accusations found to be true, innocent death, getting caught up in quite the predicament, the non-ending fourty plus hour work weeks. It's a lot for a girl my age to handle. There are days when I feel like I'm hitting my mid-life crisis, which is thirty some years from now. I'm not sure who I am or what I think. I thought I did, but now I'm not so sure. Being selfish hasn't been an option lately, but I still acknowledge the fact that I'm very non-empathetic and probably an awful friend. I swear I don't only care about myself, no matter how bitter I seem.
My time off seems so absonant. I sit in the human wasteland known as Denny's, pound cup after cup of cheap watery coffee, and smoke more than should ever be allowed by a single person. How typical and angsty of this little teenage babe, but as pitiful as it seems, I enjoy it. I feel like I belong there, with the apprehensive, cheap, downtrodden "individuals".
I know I've been lamenting, but it's hard not to. Learning to keep my mouth shut has never been so difficult. Home life has never been so intollerable. Friendships have never fallen apart so quickly or without such small warning. Life has never seemed so valuable. In my homelife, I've been thrown into growing up. To be what I'm nowhere near. An adult. Able to do whatever I'd like. I need to calm down and act my age. My family lectures me on how it's okay to make mistakes and that they only care about me, they really only care about me getting out of their lives. No, this isn't some desperate cry for attention. My family really does hate me. They really do want me out. They don't care about me, especially when I do good for myself. Only when I fuck up, then it's a big contraversy. I just feel so dis-constructive. Detached. Unhappy. Ill. But I'm just goofy little Bran-bran. I feel selfish and wrong if I portray myself else wise. But I can't do it anymore. I've been stepped on for too long and I'm reaching that age where all of this isn't really an option.
I'm a "plan" kind of gal. I like knowing where I'm going with things that will affect my life greatly. I know I'm not the epitome of matuirty or grace, but I like to pretend. Those games were always my favorite as a child. You could decide the out-come of the day, a choose your own ending story. Wheather you were retributive or had a fairy-tale ending, you were satisified. Too bad real life is nothing like pretend. You're not a child anymore when you realize that you have to grow up, get a job, do what's expected of you, and eventually die. We all live happily ever after, my ass.
In death, everything you've accomplished will more than likely not be remembered and it'll of been such a waste. Something I find so much comfort in is nothing but the scariest reality. It makes me hope that there's an after-life despite my beliefs that I've pounded into myself. I thought I was a narccist, but I'm too self-evasive.
Speaking of death. March 13th is less than a month away. Not only a birthday, but a deathday. My brother. Never have I seen my family so upset. I'm not sure if it's becuase of him or becuase I'm not eighteen yet. I have no plans but to work durring the morning. Fuck if I'm sitting at home alone mourning his loss. But that's all I really have for now, I've completely drained myself of all emotion or feeling. If you read this, I oughta punch you directly in the fucking face for being just that pathetic, but maybe it means you care. Or possibly that you're just that bored.