LustingforNightmares

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2016-03-21 22:35:07 (UTC)

shitty dirty shit

"Interstate 8" by Circa Survive [another Modest Mouse cover]

You go out like a riptide
You know that a ball has no sides!
You're an angel with an amber halo
Black hair and the devil's pitchfork

March 21, 2016 Monday 10:39 PM [Happy Spring Equinox yo... wait apparently that was yesterday... what I thought this shit happened on the 21sts????]

Today was sorta okay. Today was sorta shitty. Both sentences are true.

I felt sorta bad all day. Dunno why.
Specific reasons I did get sorta pissed, though:
I showed Adrian my youtube so he could figure out my music taste or something and he goes, "Oh I've seen this before and I was like *insert laugh* what dork is this!"

And, okay. Yeah, I like it went people are blunt, not plain mean. Which I guess wasn't his intent, but it still pissed me off. He also says pictures of me don't actually look like me which really only makes me mad because I know he's right and I wish he wouldn't bring it up.

He was okay today, though, it's not like I was angry forever. It lasted a couple minutes (but I went into this weird coma like... silence... Isaac was talking to me and I had to ask him to repeat himself several times until he just gave up, looking sorta butthurt. I felt really bad, but sometimes I just can't make myself exist in the same place as everyone else).

I ended up ranting to him about how dirty the world is ("Every time I think the world is an okay place, something happens that reminds me of how dirty everything and everyone is... " Drew had told an awful story about a woman who tied herself to a bed while Skyping her boyfriend for some sex thing. Then a robber came in and he had halitosis so when she breathed in, it made her vomit. There was tape over her mouth. She drowned. I wish he hadn't said a god damn word. I'm not grossed out–I'm just sad. That's fucking depressing as fucking fuck and it really itches at me, the way things used to itch at me when I was a little kid. Pure horror).

I don't know if he understood. I don't think I want him to understand, though.

John was being really annoying in lunch today. I wonder what was up with him. He's not usually so attention-seeking, but he fucking was and I wanted him to stop (he does his attention-seeking by like... throwing water in our faces or tying our shoes together or getting clay dust all over our clothes).

And then Sandwich. I don't think I'll ever understand him, and I don't ever think he'll know me very well. Or like me. I think I'm the type of person he'd write off, if he were to ever read my writing. I angst too much. I want him to like me, but at the same time, I don't want him to know me – I'm kind of scared he'll just attack me where I'm weak. Not that he does this to be vicious. It's just how Sandwich is.

I have a feeling I will never click with Sandwich, which really does make me sad. He says nice stuff about me too, sometimes. But why? I'm the blandest fucking person around him. We will most likely not keep in touch following high school.

Maybe that's okay. Sandwich reminds me so much of Ethan. I was scared of him too, always valued his opinion wayyyyy too much. I swear, that guy tainted me in some way, just with his sharp personality. Not that I regret it. It's grown so much into the rest of me that there is no way I can just... I don't know. Wish it wasn't there. It's disappearance would change a lot about me.

I don't know why I bother with these assholes (I say that affectionately). I like them a lot, but I'm so afraid of them all the time. It's ridiculous. Why do I surround myself with these sorts of people?

Maybe it's because they're at least honest about the dirtiness. Ugh.

I dunno, I'm just sorta struggling right now.

We've only got a four day week but I have a summation due for APUSH on Thursday and as much as I love writing, squeezing that shit out is fucking hard. Rewarding, but hard. Requires a lot of careful reading and I am anything but careful. When it comes to books, at least.

I have to study for the SATs. I take them in like a month and two weeks. Same day, I'll be going to an after prom party (without actually going to prom haha) where I assume people will be getting drunk off their asses. I will not be. I wanna go to the party, I'd just rather not do that stuff. I might drink a little but that's it.

Guys, I'm seventeen in a little more than a month. Fuck!

Okay. Well I also have to study for the APUSH exam–it's the day before the SATs. And I'm just.... meh. I'm tired, people.

And I hate Birdy. Still. (as usual: i don't actually hate him okay maybe I don't need to say that anymore)

Maybe it's good that he's, for some reason, every-fucking-where I look. Puts me face to face with my insecurities. And, hah. Not just insecurities concerning my intelligence – I'm talking all the insecurities one can possibly have, and this is because he's (from my point of view) fucking perfect, fucking Michelangelo's David in every subject or something...

He is so much better than me and I hate it.

But, again. It's good for me. Allows me to work on jealousy and stuff. So I can be stronger, less reliant on other people.

I want a normal self-esteem. That's kind of related, but it's also kind of not.

ugh. I still don't like him. Honestly, I hope he's an asshole (this time I am not saying the word affectionately)... or at least someone I'd perceive to be a dick. Because if he were a decent person on top of everything else, I think I'd probably just have to scrape my sorry ass out of town.

He's probably a reasonably nice guy. Probably has a bit of an ego, but who wouldn't with the kind of talent he has? Whatever.

Anyway.

I'm very tired and it is a little past eleven. I should sleep so I'm not late tomorrow. I so-very-badly want to skip school tomorrow but Veronica does not do things like that anymore (*finger waggin'*) because Veronica is a good girl.... kind of.

Still. It's hard. I'm not like everyone else for some reason. And not in the cool way, where you're all, "Hey I'm quirky" and so people take a natural liking to you???... No. I'm just... different. Look-down-your-nose-at-me different.

I don't converse the way other people do and I don't know, I don't find a lot of things very funny lately, and I can't even control my limbs right.

Speaking of which! Haha. In track today, I fell and fucking, like, rolled. My hands really hurt after that but it was nice because I didn't really feel embarrassed. I think I would have, except for it was a lot more embarrassing when last year I had to run the 1200 (something like that) and I was way way way way way in last place.

Because life is sort of an asshole, I also fell at around the time Birdy was walking by, so I sort of expected burning humiliation but... yeah. Again. I'm pretty sure he doesn't give a fuck about me. He definitely saw me fall. But he also saw the terrible APUSH video project I was involved in. Doesn't get much worse than that. That is the one thing I can take solace in when it comes to Birdy; I don't care what he thinks about me. I don't think he even has an opinion of me.

(Meanwhile.)

Ugh....... why do I feel so shitty??? After track practice, I was really happy. But I dunno, I don't really get along with my team mates. I don't think they like me very much. I believe I'm in that high school social class... not quite Unpopular but definitely not someone who you'd see socializing with the preppy kids.

I never thought there were social classes in my high school, but when I think about it... yeah, there kind of are. They are vague and not everyone gets caught in them, but they're there.

Luckily, no one class seems to be above the other. We all seem to think our particular groups our in a space – below someone, above someone else. But I'm pretty sure it doesn't work like that. Because say someone from group A is friends with someone from group B. Or someone technically from group C drifts around from group to group.

It has nothing to do with what people think it has to do with.

Am I making any sense?

Yeah, it has to do with yourself. Which sucks, because I have issues with myself.

Liv seems to fit fine with all these kids at track. But I just don't. I hate small talk, I really do. I don't understand it, and I think it's boring, even though I know the reason people do it is to ease into friendships.

Well.

Justin said he got me an interview at the YMCA for the summer job thing. Which is great. I should be more afraid, but lately...

Well, i had that New Visions interview last Wednesday

(I have decided that I will not be asked to join the program and that I should probably just come to terms with this now–but I don't know if I have the kind of willpower to withstand failure after failure after failure. After all, sometimes a person fails because they just aren't good enough while other times it's just circumstance. The former seems much, much, much more likely in my case, but I am biased)

Anyway. The interview last Wednesday. I thought I'd be anxious, but I wasn't. Which, okay, was great. But also strange. Shouldn't I have been... pumped, excited, nervous, on the edge of a panic attack or something?

That's how I feel about this interview too. At some point, I thought to myself, "I really want this," but now I'm so distracted... I can't even remember what exactly it is I thought I'd get out of this.

Ugh. I still feel so separate from everyone and everything else. I just can't seem to fit... anywhere... Not even really with my friends. Is it possible I am a defective puzzle piece?

Nah. The whole feeling-isolated thing is not helped by me thinking that my separation is just... an inherent truth or something.

I didn't start the thought, though. It came in slowly and it'll snowball if I'm not careful.

..

Hey. I wrote a short story, about 2500-ish words, and I'm actually pretty happy with it. I've never wrote a short story like this one before. I've only written like three complete short stories but that's just the thing: I have shared them as if they were a whole, but this is the first thing I've written that actually feels as if it is actually finished.

I only got two feedback-y things from people, both on different websites. I'm trying to post more than one place because it's just been really hard to get any criticism on my writing.


Here are the things, though, they made me feel very nice:

"This was amazing, to be honest. It had a nice flow, and there was a lot of detail. You portrayed Marvin's emotions/lack of emotion very well, in my opinion!"

"The topic you've taken under your wing is a difficult subject to discuss. Period. But [to] put feelings comprehensibly into a piece of fiction and make it understandable to those who have little or no experience is very impressive. And for that, I congratulate you. That is a hard task and I personally think you achieved this very well."


I can't believe I actually came across the way I wanted to??? I'm pretty pleased with this. Neither commenter had anything bad to say about my writing which I am a little disappointed about. I've only ever gotten great criticism from one commenter on a different story I wrote. They did the whole good thing, bad thing, good thing method of criticism. My old english teacher used to call it "warm cool warm" or something stupid like that. Oops. Sorry. I'm a little bitter. She was a bad teacher. A very nice woman, though.

Okay. I'm really, really tired... Goodnight.

---

PS: I had a fight with my mom this weekend which has contributed to my bad mood. Fights with my mom always cut me a lot deeper than fights with my dad, because they're so rare and...

She's so weird about fights and I get so mad. I have a temper, I've always had a temper. I got it from her. It's annoying, though, my mom is nothing like my dad in her arguing methods.

My dad is annoyingly logical, but then he also doesn't listen to other people at times. But I know how to deal with this, I've had a lot of practice, and I've learned that he won't gloat when you admit that you're wrong. So rarely do we ever get into big fights anymore.

But my mom. I mean, again, we don't fight a lot but we were both in a terrible mood on the way to CVS. I was listening to Moonlight Sonata (paying attention in order to learn how to improve the way I play it) and she got angry that I wasn't talking to her.

Her anger started with "you don't talk to me anymore," but. With her, once she's mad, she brings up everything you've ever done wrong and I get so overwhelmed and frustrated. How am I supposed to deal with that? There's no logic there! There's no way to reason, she's just plain pissed off and there's nothing I can do about it – and I'm pissed off too!!!

Anyway, some of the things she brought up hit me pretty hard. We didn't finish the fight. I... started crying. Gross. And then said, "Please, I don't want to talk about this." So we didn't. And we were quiet. But I felt really, really terrible, and I think I still feel terrible. Guilty. Tired.

Ew. I made myself cry a little just thinking about it. Why am I like this.

I'm fine. Just wish I wasn't so sensitive. I also wish I were a better person all-around. Especially to my mom. I adore her. Why can't I... Why do I suck so much? There's no denying it either. I really really suck as a daughter. She's right. I don't talk to her, and she's right about every other thing she said too.... well, the things I remember. Information overload. I had to forget everything else – otherwise, risking insanity.

I want to say I'll be better, but I won't. I am slow when it comes to improvement, and I'm already so so so tired but by now whenever I say that, it just comes across as an excuse and it makes her even angrier.

Maybe she's right, maybe it is an excuse.

Maybe I should stop thinking about this, though.

Goodnight!


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