Bad day.
Woke up late, got yelled at for existing, neices screaming left and right. Got to school, froze to death, yelled at in class for existing. Caught the bus home, got yelled at at home. I am too unorderly, I am always late, I am not living up to my potential, I am rude, I am selfish, I complain too much, I am lazy, I am sharptounged, I am paranoid, I am tempermental, I am irrational, I am always wrong, I am bad at everything, My grades aren't good enough, I'm not as pretty as my sister, I am not as intelligent as they wish me to be, I am stupid, I am lame, I am unexciting, I don't speak up, I speak up too much, I am 'upset', I need help, I AM ******** TIRED OF IT.
So I don't live up to your potential. DEAL. Chances are, I won't be living much of a life, anyway. Given my condition, I'll be lucky to live to 30. I am sooo tired of listening to other peoples problems, them prentending to be "deep" and all that s**t, but you're really looking for some sympathy, and I am tired of giving without getting something back! So many of my friendships are completely one-sided, Hilary with her compulsive lying, Gwen with her constant search for sympathy and complaints, Sarah always saying she's stupid when she knows she isn't....I AM GODDAMN TIRED OF IT. JUST BE ******** HAPPY WITH YOURSELF. So many people have it better off than me, and they complain about it.
Chances are, I won't marry for love, I won't live to be 30, I'll never be famous, I'll never write my books, I'll never really live. I don't want any sympathy, it just slows you down. SO WHY DO YOU CONTINUALLY SEEK IT?
Why do people constantly nitpick at things that are barely existant? The only reason I am a classifed b***h is because I tell everyone exactly what I think of them. Then, I am considered the liar, but Hilary, who kisses up to everyone's a** and pretends so much she has no real personality, is considered the most ******** truthful person on the planet.
Gwen is always at me, like a dog snapping at my heels. If I say I fell down the stairs today, Gwen will be sure to top that with the fact that her back aches so much because she was toiling away cleaning her room. She complains so much, and when I don't give her sympathy or I ignore her, she calls me a b***h for not being there and suppourting her. Does she even LISTEN to my problems? NO. I haven't even told her some of the ones that I consider common knowlege about me.
SARAH. Godamnit. She worries about everything, from that flyaway hair on her head, to her utterly perfect grades, to what everyone will think when she shows up and her socks don't match. I can't take it anymore, these "Oh no, my hairband doesn't match my shoes." Types of worries. There are people in the world who worry about whether or not they'll eat tomorrow. Is there a serious need to be so utterly trivial?
So many people underestamate me, think I am useless or harmless. I AM SICK OF IT. I have seen far more death, destruction, abuse, sickness, and the rotting of my family that you will ever dream of.
So don't talk to me about problems. Don't tell me your problems, let me have a chance to ******** GET THIS OUT HERE. Maybe if I wasn't so angsty and sterotypical, maybe people would listen. I am so tired of people saying they have it worse than me, when they don't. Don't try to be all mysterious and grown up, I know you're not, and I know when you're lying. I let you get away with it, but truth is, you're not really doing what you say you are.
I don't tell anyone about my problems, and I do my best not to complain. Here, in my journal, I shall spill a shallow little secret that has been my bane for almost two years.
My brother is getting divorced, because his wife decided she didn't feel like being tied down. We were so close, she practically a second sister to me. We went on sepreate outings, sat and gossiped about celebrities over ice cream. She pracitcally helped raise me.
Now I realize that I hardly knew her. She left my brother for a party life, a life of drinking and dancing and drugs, and waking up in the arms of some strange man in his apartment.
My brother took this in stride, I admit he did well, but since he was working a full time job, he had to dump Alexandria and Jade to live at my house. Alex and Jade are 5 and 2, now. Since their mother wanted absolutely nothing to do with them, they turned to me as a female role model. I have now sucessfully, in all ways but one, become a teenage mom. I give up dates and hangouts to babysit, and I give up dances and leisure time to play with them. I wash their clothes and brush their hair and give them baths, and do everything a mom should. Why isn't Autumn doing this, when she herself gave birth to them? The grandmother, my mom, is always tapping away at her computer, writing whatever novel comes next. She hardly paid attention to me in the first place, but now it's like I am the maid, to be ignored. My father just yells a lot and gets drunk.
She tries to chum it up with me whenever she comes to visit, which is rarely, now. She talks to me about the joys of motherhood, and how she feels so liberated to be the mother and caretaker of her two daughters.
What do you know about motherhood, I want to scream at her. You, who discarded your children like broken dolls, who left her four month old baby in the arms of a twelve year old, and strolled out the door like nothing happened? Two years ago, you broke my own brother's heart, and he hasn't been the same since. Jade and Alex haven't been the same since. Jade doesn't even remember having you as a mother. What do you know about motherhood?
Ladies and gentlemen, this is what is known as a rant. Don't piss me off next time. I tend to keep it under the surface.
Callowyn of Calypso Community Member 
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Community Member