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I have no control over what I do anymore.
I have no choice in my future.
Others get to decide for me, what happens and what doesn't happen.
When they tell you you can do anything, and they'll be behind you every step of the way . . . What they really mean is that they'll be monitoring every step, and they will tell you what is best for you.
I have no voice in my life.
Everytime I want something for myself, it's questioned and looked down upon.
Every friend I have ever made wasn't my choice at all.
I never chose who I got to hang out with, or who I talked to.
I was kicked out of the house once, because I decided to voice my own opinion, which opposed theirs.
I was only 8 or 9. That's when I learned my life wasn't my life at all. It was a second chance for them. They controll me now just like they did then. And they will always.
I think that's what life is about. I think life is just carrying out orders and carrying on the family name. That's all.
There are those who think it's otherwise. They 'rebel' during their teenage years, pretending to do what they want, because they can. But then, later, they get jobs. And they resume the path of carrying out orders. And then they have children, who carry out the orders of their parents, whom have jobs and are still obeying the rules.
Or they may not have children, and their family name dies with them in the end. And no one will ever know they existed, unless of course, they create something in their lifetime that changes the future of technology or some other significant area.
But in the longrun, that's all life is. Just carrying out orders, and carrying on their names. And some people strive to break the pattern, and some people do break the pattern. Very few people ever do. But the rest of us.. I'll never break the pattern. Current Mood:  blank
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So David is threatening to kill me now. EL. OH. EFFING. EL. I don't know what he's trying to sell, but I'm not buying it. My mum is though. Oh, how worked up she gets ~ He's a compulsive liar, and I'm not going to wait for something that's not going to happen. If he's going to kill me then hurry up already. And leave my family out of it. But as far as I can tell, he's full of bullcrap, wanting attention, and I'm not giving it to him. My mum can supply it for him. Also, I believe there's another person involved. Yes, that's right. Tony. I'm not sure how, when, where, or why. But I'm positive he's in this someway. [Blah blah blah. Don't chew my head off. I'll finish this later.] Tags: death, threat
Current Location: In front of my computer.
Current Mood:  amused
Current Music: Green Day - Time of your life
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I just want to sleep all day, is that so bad? I don't want to be awake. So I just try to sleep for as long as I can get away with it. I usually get out of bed between 12 and 2 pm. This morning though, I was thrown awake by my neighbor's bass. What is it about music that makes most people want to only hear the bass? And my room is on the end of our house, closest to theirs, and facing the street. So every morning, I get a daily dose of "THUMP THUMP THUMP TH-THUMP!!" It's rather annoying. I was sleeping in my underwear and a button-up shirt, but I was SO tempted to go break their radio. "I hadn't planned on waking up this morning. Would've kept sleeping. Forever. I just wanted those dreams to become my life... That's all. And you hated that, didn't you? So you woke me up and made me face reality. And while you were talking to me about "Love" and therapy and a whole bunch of shit... I could've been sleeping in." - B L A N K Tags: bass, music, radio, sleeping
Current Location: In front of my computer.
Current Mood:  cranky
Current Music: Aerosmith - Jaded
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Down the street, not across the lane?
I understand now why down is more perferable. If you do it across, you've got tendons in the way, which would sever the use of your hand if you end up surviving the "cutting" process.
And of course, I did.
Yes, yes, what I'm getting at is that I resorted to cutting myself. I had a pretty good half a year or so of not cutting. I don't know what was holding me up all that time, but whatever it was.. finally broke.
So there I was, sawing away at my wrist, right inbetween the two tendons, with that knife I received from Joe some time ago. Of course, at the time he knew of my cutting, so he made sure it was a one-sided blade. Dull as hell. So I was literally sawing. About 20 minutes go by with minimal blood shed, when I finally remembered the sewing kit I got for Christmas had something like a "coupon-cutter" included in it, so I pull open the tiny drawer, pop the blade out, and one clean cut across a different vein later ~ I'm spillin' blood like nobody's business.
To tell you the truth, it was exciting. But a different sort of exciting. Not like.. action movie exciting. More like.. the end of a romance movie that ends in a cliffhanger exciting.
So I turned out the light, laid face-down with my arm dangling off the side of the bed, a paper right under my hand to catch the blood - for easy clean up, of course - and just waited. It was weird to feel the blood climbing down my hand.
Well, I woke up a short time later, turned the light back on, and discovered some of the blood had dried onto my hand. Meaning I had survived the self-mutilation. Though, I have a theory that if I had been sitting in a bath, the blood wouldn't have dried or clogged and would've still flowed freely until there was little-to-none left.
And now, I have a huge scabbed line (where I was sawing on myself) and a tiny, clean line next to it. However, the bigger of the two is greenish, and possibly infected. I'll have to clean it out sometime.
Oh well. Better luck next time. Tags: blood, cutting, death, infection, scab, suicide
Current Location: In front of my computer.
Current Mood: blank
Current Music: New Buffalo - Emotional Champ
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I've been thinking.. ( with what little brain power I have left..) About those around me. My family. People I talk to ( IRL, for those online who read this..). They all have one thing incommon. They all lie. They all think they can get past me with made-up stories. My sister wrote a bulletin recently concerning my mother. This is how it reads: | Date: | Mar 16, 2008 12:27 PM |
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| Subject: | start acting like a fucking proper mother. |
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| Body: | stop calling your daughter a whore.
stop calling you daughter a failure
stop hitting me
stop talking shit behind your families back
stop talking shit period
you can't back it up
stop talking to your daughter's ex like you're in love with him.
stop calling the only person who was really any good to your daughter a loser.
stop flaunting the fact that your daughter was just a broken condom.
if you hit me i swear to god i will hit you back.
it's called self defense.
stop pulling me by my hair.
stop being dramatic and relise that i don't care.
leave me the fuck alone. |
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In the parts when she mentions "Your daughter", she had meant me. I called to confirm my suspicions, and it's true. My mother, the woman who gave birth to me, raised me, taught me.. had called me a whore. A failure. And has thus far spread the fact that I was not planned for, and that I'm just a hole in a piece of rubber. But when I had mentioned it to her, she had - of course - denied it all, saying that she would NEVER EVER call me those things, when in fact you can see here that my sister had caught it all. My sister doesn't lie when she's upset, trust me. If she's arguing with you, she'll bring up things you've forgotten about and make you feel like shit. So the above statements are true. I'm not saying she's innocent, however. She's quite the story-teller herself. But only when she feels it would benefit herself to do so. My father.. He and I have history. ( If you feel you'd like to know, you know where to reach me..) Recently, I overheard his conversation with a friend, I assume, and he told them about my personal life. My personal life. I don't know where everyone gets off telling others my personal information. I don't understand it, and possibly never will. I did feel betrayed. My most recent ex.. he and my mother talk. According to my sister, apparently it's very often. It wouldn't bother me so much if it wasn't so often, and if they didn't bring me up in their conversations. But I also wouldn't care as much if they didn't talk about my personal life as well. My mother now has information I didn't want her to EVER know, and it's pretty much thanks to him and his friend. I might possibly have cancer, and she knows. I've had sexual relations with someone, and she knows. I've OD'd at least 5 times in this year alone, and she knows. It's ridiculous. It seriously is. The way everyone goes about talking to others about an outside party's personal information like it's something to do. Like it's right. I just don't get it. Tags: family, friends, personal
Current Location: In front of my computer.
Current Mood: blank
Current Music: Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here
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loveisrotten's journal
