Well what the fuck am I supposed to write about now? I've said everything and nothing. I have so much to say but it usually comes in sentences and not paragraphs or chapters.
I'm messed up.
Everyone thinks they're messed up but I am. Not to have an inferiority complex, of course.
I fucking hate this time of year. I hate it so much.
The weather is as unstable as me. And then there's the special occasions. Old friend's birthdays. And death dates. And my fucking birthday, for fucks sake. I hate it so much. Because it's "oh, 365 more days of you being a fucked up mess and it's funny because you keep telling yourself you're gonna get smart and become a mature adult. Fucking failed at that though, right? What a joke you are. Stupid failure. You didn't learn your elementary math. You didn't gain any skills in piano. You failure."
It's so fucked up. I cut myself on accident today and laughed at the blood gushing out. Because I fucking messed up in that, too.
You wanna know what else is really fucked up? My goals for this year? (As they've been for more than one, let's just say.)
1. Learn my times tables
2. Learn all the parts of speech without having to think for a long time
3. Clean my room. Rid of the mice and bugs and piles of clothes and the chipping paint and the corner of the wall where it's worn down to the streel.
4. Have at least some kind of idea what I'm gonna do with my life when my rich and successful uncle asks me at the family gatherings what I'm gonna "do after school." He comes alone. All three of his kids are always somewhere busy achieving something.
And truthfully I don't know about "after school" cause sometimes I feel like I won't last that long...
And what do I say? "I want to travel... and go to London or even live there some day." With what money? From the job I don't have that I couldn't get because of the education I don't have because I didn't try hard enough? I feel like I'm destined to be a housewife. Laundry and scrubbing floors and sex and children and looking pretty will be all I'm good for.
All because I never even tried.
So when you ask me what I'm gonna do and I reply "I don't know"... I literally don't know. I have no clue.
Please don't say you can relate. Because you're not up at 2:50 AM sobbing because you crave hope more than anything and you just can't find any in anything. With all due respect.
I'm just so scared.
xxx
Jan.26.2015 // 2:53 AM
YOU ARE READING
For All I Can Remember...
Non-FictionBasically this is going to be a daily journal on days it's important and also poems and stories about my life. I don't know, you might like it. It's for me to keep record but feel free to read!
