I've pretty much spent my life in a box.
A box full of rules and idiots with money and power that follow those rules.
Full of fixed relationships that never work and people that want to escape.
An oversized, rose tinted, golden frilled box.
Don't make me begin to complain why that's a bad thing.
And I'm still stuck here, in my supposedly "To die for" bedroom (opinion courtesy of my mother). I'm almost literally stuck here, being the princess of England and all. Oh, I didn't tell you that? Yeah, that kinda happened...
I've never really been out at all. Out as in out of my house. Like never. With the occasion of equitation practice, I've never been associated with much of the outside world. The closest to experience that I have in the outside world is of my history tutor showing me all of his videos of his vacations in a foreign country called America. I have some online friends there.
Strange place...
I've been taking personal classes and hated all of my teachers one by one. The tutors that my parents had imported directly to my 'house', had mostly all quit due to my supposedly overbearing "Lack of effort". One had said and the other had addressed my "Rude attitude and unwillingness to learn".... My father, King Escalus and mother, Queen Rosaline have royally trapped me here in my room in Brighton, England. Only because I refuse to get married at sixteen to some old guy that I don't even know! I'm fifteen now but still. They can't tell me a thing about marriage.
Absolute. Hypocrites.
My parents supposedly are in an arranged marriage. Can there be any worse way to say "We never wanted you"? I don't think so. Although they say that our real parents never wanted us. They haven't really given us any reason to trust them in the first place. Lynn, my twin sister and I have been going through this nonsensical crap since we asked them "Why does mommy look so young and daddy doesn't?" when we were both about five. Turns out, neither parent wanted to be here, in this giant, fucking box. Join the fucking club. Dammit I cuss to much. Whatever, I like it.
In my spare time (which is almost never), when my nurse isn't practically following me every move and action to report to my father (again, almost never), I RPB. RolePlay Blog. But for me it really isn't Roleplaying at all. I'm just being myself, and nobody believes me. I never gave them any idea to think that I was just playing around about anything that I blog. I even took a picture of my room and house. (It probabaly wasn't the best idea to have it taken professionally, because people can easily say that it just came off of Google images or Tumblr. Nonbelievers.) People ask me where I found my profile picture. It was just a picture of me in my birthday ball gown almost a year ago. My sister always tells me to leave it like that; "Let them believe what they want" but it's not that easy for me. I don't like when people assume what they want because they get this big idea about what I should be doing on my blog. About who I should be. Complete. Total. Absolute. Hypocrytes. Ugh.
