LustingforNightmares

tumbleweed
2016-07-06 00:08:09 (UTC)

She is Sleepy and She Rants


July 6, 2016 Wednesday 12:09 AM


On average: today was not a good day in the [insert my last name here] household.

For me: it was pretty good.

For my sister: I imagine pretty bad, but maybe that's changed, as she's on a date with some "nerdy" physics major who goes to my dad's university and she said she liked him, so.

For my dad: I honestly have no idea. Probably okay, though.

For my mom: Not great. Really not great.


We're going to talk about me. And briefly about the others. But mostly me, since I am an expert in all things Me which is perfectly natural (and yet, I feel guilty – and incredibly fake. Like a liar. Bizarre).

My day was me, eating food and talking to my mom, mostly about education (Mom wishes she could go back to school, but we can't afford it since college is expensive as fuck. She says she feels bad that she's not as educated or whatever – and her job doesn't pay very well even though she's got a degree. We also talked about immigration, which always comes up, since my Abuelita is over in Nicaragua, boutta cross the border into Diabetes Type 2, and then there's the rest of my mom's family in the same country, in the same town with sand roads, and.

She wishes she could bring them all here, but it's a very, very difficult process, and my Abuelita has a greencard, but she doesn't like it up here. Too cold and too lonely, which is exactly why my mom wishes they were here. And Nicaragua isn't great in a lot of ways. Not to shit on it, but. The US just has a lot of opportunities.)

Then I was reading Player Piano s'more – I like it – before going to piano lessons, which was fun. Polly forced me to read further in the second movement of Moonlight Sonata but ugghghghghh. I hate reading, it's so tedious... Which is probably why I should practice it, gross, ugh.

Actual playing was fun though. Her piano's keys are so much easier to press, they're so... light, and they give so easily. Meanwhile, our piano is just. Dead inside haha.

Caroline got in another accident. Car accident, I mean. This is either the second or third, not counting her DUI. My mom started crying, because our insurance is already. Well. Bad. I think we had to buy new car insurance in March 'cause we were dropped by the other people.

It was Caroline's fault, so that's even worse.

Oh. And we had also, less than a week ago, gotten the car fixed. Only two parts of it, one of which (the front) was damaged in the accident. It's not terrible, so we're not getting it fixed again (it was expensive to do it the first time).

I was weirdly mad at Caroline. It wasn't exactly a deep feeling, though. I think I was just trying to avoid pity. Because – why? Why does this stuff happen to her? Why can't existence just let her have some peace?

I don't know. Maybe she's fine. I just worry about her, and I get more careful, and I worry some more.

(Hi, hello, this will appear to you to be a non sequitur – unless you are able to trace my train of thought, in which case, I apologize for doubting you.

I promise this follows all the stuff I was saying beofre, but I never explain how, so... Anyway.

Last night, at around 1 in the morning, I stood stock still in my room. I thought I heard something in the hallway. So I tiptoed – after a few minutes of standing quietly – around the room, gathering possible weapons. So basically I tucked my phone and several pencils into the waist band of my Winnie The Pooh pajama boxers and got a heavy glass bottle full of glass marbles (why do we even have that?) as, y'know. A blunt object. For head-hitting.

I proceeded to spend the next twenty minutes checking and re-checking my house to make sure no one was lurking. I was half-terrified, half-amused by my own stupidity. I found my pocket knife whilst searching my room and replaced the pencils with that, looking in closet doors and behind the shower curtain, and so on. Also locking all the doors.

So. Wow. Paranoia. Yaaaayyy. I fell asleep holding the pocket knife haha. I'm not scary at all.)

(Heard my neighbors fighting yesterday. Mostly, I couldn't understand any words. There were shrilly screams, some "–FUCK!"s or "–FUCKING–"s here and there, and some glass breaking. Yay happy fourth of july)

I'm lame and ditzy and feeling empty-headed in a way I think is normal, probably. Where, y'know, all of your thoughts ACTUALLY pertain to the things in front of/around you, instead of being all swept up in pointless thoughts, questions, ruminations, whatever, about anything and everything but mostly nothing important.

I like being all preoccupied, thinking about random stuff and imagining... well, knowing me, probably death and stuff... but this, this weird inner silence, is fine too. It's nice in a different way.

I've had mixed-feelings about myself lately, but that's also pretty normal, I guess. I was just – a little negative. I ignored it, and it went away. Ta-da. Curing mental illness. Right here. Right now. If that's even... a thing. For me. Mental illness, I mean. I don't know. I doubt things a lot. And I seem fine, not even just now, but always.

(Okay, but: shut up)

Right.

Ohhh and now I'm super sleepy.

I'm sorry for a lot of things, by the way.

(Do I, like. Have an issue with being happy? Jesus.)

No! Damn it, shut your mouth. My mouth. Fuck, anyway: what I mean is, I don't know, I get.. worried. That. I am self-centered. Which, okay, would make sense. I just don't want to be that way. And...

Oh god, none of this is coming out the way I wanted to, so never mind.

I'm still fine, and by now 'fine' kind of sounds like a lie, so I'm gonna use a new word because I actually do mean it.

(That's not to say I don't mean it when I normally use the phrase, "I'm fine," it's just that I feel like I usually end angsty entries with those words and. No, it's not a lie – it's like the love thing. It's a promise, or an expectation I guess. I know I will BE fine, so I am fine, even if I'm not really fine, which kind of makes me angry sometimes, since honestly there are moments when I'd like to cry until no one ever expected me to act my age ever again, but... MOST of the time, it's a good thing. Okay, I'm sorry sorry sorry, why do I feel like I'm hurting people, or like. Rubbing a cheese grater hard into their skin. All the people's skins.)

So: thing are pretty great. That's not a new word/phrase, is it? That's a thing I say a lot, isn't it? Damn it, I mean it, okay. Never the fuck mind, just. Bye. Have a good night.

I hope everyone is okay. Or 'fine.'

PS:

half this entry is in parentheses wow





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