What is it about my happiness that nobody seems to care about? Why is it that my happiness seems to be below anyone else's own? I don't give a fuck if you're my grandmother, or some old woman, or some kid, or even if you're someone who I don't even know. You speak to me one way, I'll speak to you the very same way. Don't like it? Then don't fucking speak to me like that. It's my life, and I can make my own fucking choices. It's called freedom of fucking speech. If you don't like the way I speak, alright, fine. But don't fucking cuss me off for speaking to you in the same fucking tone that you speak to me. If you're going to shout at me and behave badly, that's exactly how I'm going to treat you. If you're going to cuss me off while I'm in a visibly bad mood, expect me to return the favour, and show you how much of a bad mood I'm in. But all I'm doing is returning the favour. Remember that. And if I have to keep saying the same thing over and over again, yeah, I'm gonna snap. And guess what? Fuck you. That's all I have to say about it. Time's like this, I remember a quote from Jim Young in Boiler Room. He might have been talking about the stock market, but it works here too, "Your parents don't like what you're doing? Fuck you mom and dad." And that sums up how I feel. And then you go off and have the fucking nerve to fucking talk to me about family? When you're fucking divorced cause you decided to treat your marriage like it was a fucking game of poker? When you fucking bluffed your husband that you were leaving, and actually left because he didn't chase after you? Fuck you. You wouldn't know the first thing about family if it fucking hit you in the face with your own fucking words.Fucking hypocrite. You threaten to not talk to me? Go a-fucking-head. See if I give a rat's ass. I've given up on friendships for less. I've stopped talking to my best friends for less. And you think you threatening to not talk to me will change how I feel? I'll probably feel fucking happier without you jumping down my throat for every little fucking thing that I do. And you wanna know why? Cause it's my fucking life. I'll fucking do with it as I want. And you can go fuck yourself with a barbed stick for all I care, cause you might be blood, but you aren't family. Not as far as I care.
Family is supposed to be those people who care for you no matter what. The people who you can go to for anything. The people who you can trust with anything, and the only person who I would consider my family taking that into account is someone who I met over the internet, and talk to over the internet, and I've never actually met in person. So no, you aren't my fucking family. You're a blood relative, and so are like twenty other fucking people. But that doesn't mean I have to like you, or even put up with you. As far as I'm concerned, you're just an old fucking bitch who can't fucking shut up with your barking and whining. And I might not watch a lot of movies, but I know that in movies where the family bitch does that, you take it around back and put a fucking bullet through it's skull. And if it weren't for the fact that there's the law, and the fucking conscience that keeps me from doing it, you'd best believe that I'd fucking put a nice load of lead through your fucking skull. So how about you all just hop off and leave me to my own life. Let me make my own choices for a change. And stop interfering in my fucking life. Just because there's a u in business doesn't mean you need to stick your fucking nose in mine. So fuck off, and have a nice fucking day.
Monday, 10 June 2013
Thursday, 6 June 2013
June 6, 2013
Do you ever just have one of those days where it starts off okay, and towards the end you just sorta feel like the people you were once friends with hate you? Yeah, well that's pretty much how today went for me. Like any other day, I woke up, watched TV, read comics, read Clash of Kings, and played around with friends. Maybe I'm just not saying the right things, maybe I'm just being paranoid, or maybe I'm just right, and they don't want to be friends with me any more. Maybe I should just stop putting myself in these kinds of positions, and just stop getting so attached to people. Online and off. It always just seems to end with me just getting hurt. Whatever. If they still want to talk to me, they can come to me. I'm done taking the initiative to talk to people. It always just ends up with me getting ignored, or hurt in the end anyway. Maybe I'll just stop replying and see how they like it. Just disappear, and go do my own thing. Doesn't really matter to anyone if they don't even care about me, right? All I know is that I'm going to stop caring, deal with my own shit, and maybe then I'll go to bed and feel better then next day. Just stop caring what other people think about my life, and my choices. Hardly concerns them anyway.
Thursday, 11 April 2013
April 11, 2013
You ever have one of those days when you just think that nothing could possibly go wrong, and then things just fucking spiral out of control to the fiery pits of hell? That's pretty much how today went. I spent the whole day joking around with friends, tired and with a slight headache, but I honestly thought that that day couldn't get much worse than that.
And then History happened. I don't mean history as in some big fucking event that kids will have to learn fifty years down the road. I mean the class. With everyone's least favorite teacher. There are some teachers at this school that people just do not like- and with reason, too. This teacher is on the top of pretty much everyone's list.
First of all, she gives me a topic to do on the board that I just don't get. And it isn't a topic that's compulsory. It was end of the Cold War. I could easily do a causes question, or a impacts question, but I just don't know end of the Cold War. I told her straight up that I had a pretty bad headache, and didn't know the topic well enough to do a question. Right after I had given her two other essay plans for two other Cold War questions.
If that were me, I'd say alright, fine, go sit down and finish up the essay plan you were doing. But no, she made me stand up there and attempt to write a thesis statement (which ended up not being finished because as soon as the bell rang, I was getting called off by another teacher.) And then she has the gall to call my mother and tell her that I blanked out in class, and I don't know enough to write a substantial essay.
It isn't my fault that you're a shit teacher. It isn't my fault you make us teach the topics while you sit back and watch. It isn't my fault that I'm better at topics that you don't give me. So don't you fucking to go my mother and tell her shit about how I'm not doing the work.
And then my mother, the bitch that she is, decided to fucking lecture me about shit that does not concern her in the slightest. I know I won't fuck up so badly I'll get my acceptance to University revoked. Especially considering that they accepted me after seeing what my History grade looked like on the mock exams. If it's good enough for them, then it's good enough for me. So how about you all just stay the fuck out of my business?
I can't even get in the mindset to write the essay plan I had to write for today. I can't bring myself to even think about studying without getting so pissed off that I want to punch my mother and the failure of a teacher in the face. I'm done with everyone's shit. Done talking to people for now. And I'm sure as hell done with work. I'm going to sit back and stare at a word document, pretending to do work while I try to calm the fuck down. Sick. Of. This. Shit.
And then History happened. I don't mean history as in some big fucking event that kids will have to learn fifty years down the road. I mean the class. With everyone's least favorite teacher. There are some teachers at this school that people just do not like- and with reason, too. This teacher is on the top of pretty much everyone's list.
First of all, she gives me a topic to do on the board that I just don't get. And it isn't a topic that's compulsory. It was end of the Cold War. I could easily do a causes question, or a impacts question, but I just don't know end of the Cold War. I told her straight up that I had a pretty bad headache, and didn't know the topic well enough to do a question. Right after I had given her two other essay plans for two other Cold War questions.
If that were me, I'd say alright, fine, go sit down and finish up the essay plan you were doing. But no, she made me stand up there and attempt to write a thesis statement (which ended up not being finished because as soon as the bell rang, I was getting called off by another teacher.) And then she has the gall to call my mother and tell her that I blanked out in class, and I don't know enough to write a substantial essay.
It isn't my fault that you're a shit teacher. It isn't my fault you make us teach the topics while you sit back and watch. It isn't my fault that I'm better at topics that you don't give me. So don't you fucking to go my mother and tell her shit about how I'm not doing the work.
And then my mother, the bitch that she is, decided to fucking lecture me about shit that does not concern her in the slightest. I know I won't fuck up so badly I'll get my acceptance to University revoked. Especially considering that they accepted me after seeing what my History grade looked like on the mock exams. If it's good enough for them, then it's good enough for me. So how about you all just stay the fuck out of my business?
I can't even get in the mindset to write the essay plan I had to write for today. I can't bring myself to even think about studying without getting so pissed off that I want to punch my mother and the failure of a teacher in the face. I'm done with everyone's shit. Done talking to people for now. And I'm sure as hell done with work. I'm going to sit back and stare at a word document, pretending to do work while I try to calm the fuck down. Sick. Of. This. Shit.
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