First things first. I want to continue to live where I am right now, at least until I graduate. Actually, after this year, I really don't fucking care much. There are very few people I would care enough about to keep in touch with. I'd like to go to a college somewhere, perhaps even the local Cameron U.
But I can't live with my family anymore. I can't live with my mother, (who consistently doesn't show up to the plate), my father, (who is pretty much the same), my thief brother who will steal anything that isn't nailed down, my gay brother who reminds me oh too much of Guitar Woman. I hate all of them.
I know this because, earlier today, there was a bad smell and my mom said that she was going to puke. I thought, ''I hope you choke to death on your vomit.'' She seriously stands for everything I find wrong about people. Pot smoking hippie that used to sneak out of the house into bars to watch bands and drink. I never did any of that. I never skipped a damn day of school. Never. She says she knows me, that she knows teenagers. She has no idea what I'm about. When I went to do the academic decathlon thing this past Saturday, she said something like, ''Good luck, you little asshole.'' as I was walking out the door. Thanks, Mom.
I feel like I did with my dad. Love out of obligation and nothing more. Speaking of which, I have no idea why they got divorced. If they were anymore alike, they'd be related. Whatever, though, that must be the twelve-odd years of custody battles talking.
I can't put my wallet down or my fucking brother will take all of the money out of it. So I kick his ass personally because if I went to my mother, she'd say, ''WELL WHADDAYA WANT ME TA DO?" Be a fucking parent, asshole. Beat his klepto ass like you used to do to me.
I cry at night because of this. Because all I can do is count the days until I can get away without having to worry about what's behind me. And I think about this one red-headed girl and she makes it all go away, at least for a while.
I like gadgets. I collect them. But I'm coming to find that if I can't find a fresh source of new gadgets, I get all depressed and bored. I'm smart enough to realize it is an addiction, but I still want to keep around my computer and things related to it. Things just don't make me happy anymore. I think that is in part related to my being at home. Everytime I am happy, I am away from home.
I just really feel like shit right now and I'm gonna start seeing my therapist again, but I've found in the past that sharing one's thoughts can make you feel a lot better as well.