So today I just found out that my mom threw away my old Converse. And those were going to be my PE shoes. -__- So I got all pissed and grumpy cause I really really didn't want to break into new shoes. I loved those faded blue All-Stars. And that made my mom all mad and she's all like "In all your thirteen years, all you've ever learned is to complain. Complain complain complain. Can't you at least TRY to learn something useful?" Usually I'd shoot back with something like "Gee, school really isn't useful at ALL!", "Complaining's actually quite useful; you should know", or "I wouldn't be talking." But I didn't. -__- Cause I really didn't want to handle another fight, and everyone blaming me for starting it. So whatever. Let her yell, let her shout, I'll just sit there and tune it out. Coldplay was conveniently playing, so it wasn't that hard. (:
My dad, on the other hand...it's impossible to tune him out, no matter WHO he's yelling at. Even if it's the dog. Poor thing. Sits there and looks up like prey looking at predator. I wonder if that's how I look when he shouts at me. HAHA I doubt it. If I looked like that, he wouldn't be shouting at me in the first place, now would he? I'm just too damn stubborn; rebellious; and I don't allow the words to get through to me. Cause if I did, where would I be now? Sulking in the corner of my room hugging a teddy bear and shouting at everyone who comes in? Naw. Never gonna let that happen to me.
But really. Is it so necessary to shout and yell out your lungs? I can hear just fine if you talked at normal volume. It's actually harder to listen when you're shouting, cause then my ears hurt, and then I don't really want to listen to whatever crap you're putting out. And when you shout, you make whoever you're talking to want to shout back. So it's become some shouting/insult match where no one wins but everyone ends up wishing the other person would go to hell. Now that's just dandy, isn't it.
So I guess these shouting matches teach me to think. Not good thinking; just thinking fast. You say one thing, and three things come up in my head. I say the one thing that gets you the maddest. Then you get mad, and think of something to say back at me. I laugh to myself, and think how stupid that is. Then you see me smiling, and get madder. Of course, I do stop when you start throwing things. Cause we don't want to lose more money by replacing things we already have, now don't we? And this is a VERBAL fight, it's not supposed to get physical. So I'll stop. And you'll calm down by shouting more. And I'll just sit there and nod when it looks like I'm supposed to nod. And then it's over! Until a few minutes later when I forget to wash the dishes. Then hopefully you won't throw the dishes. Some can break, you know.
So much drama; so little time. This is why school's a good thing for me. Whatever drama there seems so juvenile to whatever crap's happening back here. And eight, maybe nine hours away from home each day is a great escape. And not to mention homework! Come ninth grade, our homework keeps piling up and up and up. But that's good! I welcome any distraction!
So now I finally understand what they mean by 'every day is an adventure'. And not just every day; every minute, every second. You feel happy right now, a minute later, life seems hopeless once again. Because what the hell are you supposed to do when you're forced to hate what you once loved? That's turning your whole world upside down, leaving you nowhere to go. Of course, there's always those little openings, but when everything you know is wrong, where are you supposed to go? Right becomes wrong, wrong becomes the only thing you can trust. So where do you go from that point? You tell me.
So today I just found out that my mom threw away my old Converse. And those were going to be my PE shoes. -__- So I got all pissed and grumpy cause I really really didn't want to break into new shoes. I loved those faded blue All-Stars. And that made my mom all mad and she's all like "In all your thirteen years, all you've ever learned is to complain. Complain complain complain. Can't you at least TRY to learn something useful?" Usually I'd shoot back with something like "Gee, school really isn't useful at ALL!", "Complaining's actually quite useful; you should know", or "I wouldn't be talking." But I didn't. -__- Cause I really didn't want to handle another fight, and everyone blaming me for starting it. So whatever. Let her yell, let her shout, I'll just sit there and tune it out. Coldplay was conveniently playing, so it wasn't that hard. (:
My dad, on the other hand...it's impossible to tune him out, no matter WHO he's yelling at. Even if it's the dog. Poor thing. Sits there and looks up like prey looking at predator. I wonder if that's how I look when he shouts at me. HAHA I doubt it. If I looked like that, he wouldn't be shouting at me in the first place, now would he? I'm just too damn stubborn; rebellious; and I don't allow the words to get through to me. Cause if I did, where would I be now? Sulking in the corner of my room hugging a teddy bear and shouting at everyone who comes in? Naw. Never gonna let that happen to me.
But really. Is it so necessary to shout and yell out your lungs? I can hear just fine if you talked at normal volume. It's actually harder to listen when you're shouting, cause then my ears hurt, and then I don't really want to listen to whatever crap you're putting out. And when you shout, you make whoever you're talking to want to shout back. So it's become some shouting/insult match where no one wins but everyone ends up wishing the other person would go to hell. Now that's just dandy, isn't it.
So I guess these shouting matches teach me to think. Not good thinking; just thinking fast. You say one thing, and three things come up in my head. I say the one thing that gets you the maddest. Then you get mad, and think of something to say back at me. I laugh to myself, and think how stupid that is. Then you see me smiling, and get madder. Of course, I do stop when you start throwing things. Cause we don't want to lose more money by replacing things we already have, now don't we? And this is a VERBAL fight, it's not supposed to get physical. So I'll stop. And you'll calm down by shouting more. And I'll just sit there and nod when it looks like I'm supposed to nod. And then it's over! Until a few minutes later when I forget to wash the dishes. Then hopefully you won't throw the dishes. Some can break, you know.
So much drama; so little time. This is why school's a good thing for me. Whatever drama there seems so juvenile to whatever crap's happening back here. And eight, maybe nine hours away from home each day is a great escape. And not to mention homework! Come ninth grade, our homework keeps piling up and up and up. But that's good! I welcome any distraction!
So now I finally understand what they mean by 'every day is an adventure'. And not just every day; every minute, every second. You feel happy right now, a minute later, life seems hopeless once again. Because what the hell are you supposed to do when you're forced to hate what you once loved? That's turning your whole world upside down, leaving you nowhere to go. Of course, there's always those little openings, but when everything you know is wrong, where are you supposed to go? Right becomes wrong, wrong becomes the only thing you can trust. So where do you go from that point? You tell me.
Impress me. Sing along to Bon Jovi and Muse with me. Watch Lion King until your eyes hurt. Laugh at all my jokes. Buy me striped clothing on my birthday! Learn to love my Mickey. (: Memorize my phone number, and memorize it RIGHT. Buy me CD albums for my birthday/Christmas/anything! Never tell me you want to watch me swim. Get me Vitamin Water when I'm stressed. (: Tell me your life story. I'll tell you mine.
