were to be damaged in such a way where it would completely trash the already faulty filter on the things I say. My recurring wordvomit would either become nonexistent because I wouldn’t hastily be searching for words/excuses, or it would become significantly or hilariously worse. I could just spew the things I hold back from the idiots that surround me and have a damn good excuse for it.
Oh southern california… it’s 79 degrees in January. Today, the sun is out, shining brightly and warming the ground. My neighbors are having a pool party with loud music and alcoholic beverages. The birds are singing, my dogs are dozing, my parents are lazily lounging around the house.
I’m camped out in my room. Doing about 3 days worth of absent work and the assload of homework I have. 10 page book report? hoo rah. After I buttrape all these assignments, the moon will be out and the ground will be chilly, and it’ll be time for me to go to bed so I can wake up bright-eyed and bushy tailed at 5:30 tomorrow morning.
I am so damn sick of everyone feeling sorry for themselves. I myself have been guilty of such behavior, but I have not squirted bloody vaginal discharge on everything and flipped hundreds of tits over nothing. It is perfectly normal to rant and rage and complain. Holding in is not healthy. But if the thing(s) bothering you are so constant, so troubling, that it wrecks your life and causes completely unnecessary and avoidable drama, DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT. Take some action; try to fix whatever is wrong or talk it out, no matter how ridiculously incorrigible you think someone is. Keep your mouth shut when it needs to stay shut, and listen. This way, you don’t end up whining about nothing and hating life when you could be doing something productive. Don’t you dare come back to me and tell me ” you don’t know my life/them/my problems” or any of that horse shit. I will throw it right back in your face. Everyone has problems. When speaking in extremes like children in africa or some people who are just magic and have virtually no problems, your problems are better than some, and much worse than others. But for the most part, yours are on the same level as everyone else’s. So do what most other people have learned to do, and suck it up. I feel sorry for you, but stop acting like you’re five years old. The world doesn’t revolve around you. If you ask for advice, take it or leave it, but don’t keep asking for it if you’re never going to take it.
I know I’m not stupid. I get A’s and B’s in difficult classes, but though I try hard, I’m still lazy and do as little as I can let myself get away with. I suppose if I had more time, I’d have better grades… but I digress.(not dissing state schools. In any way possible. they’re great. i promise. I’m probably going to go to one.) If I go to a state school, I may find myself either unchallenged or surrounded by people I generally avoid, or get even lazier, not to mention stomping on my parents expectations. But, if I do in fact get into some UC, which is extraordinarily unlikely at this point, what happens? The people who get in there are the people who I generally cling to at school and hang on to their every word because they are so damned bright. I wonder if I could rise to the occasion without killing myself, thereby detracting from my college experience, if at all?
Hmm. I have scary dreams, where I miraculously make it into a good college and I get there, and they say “sorry, we don’t have math low enough for YOUR KIND”. and from there I end up working at McDonalds until I’m old and wrinkly. That’s what i fear the most- old age. So combine that with basic failure… and I wake up tear-ridden. It’s irrational and silly and downright idiotic, but… I am afraid of failure. And being old. The thought of both makes me nauseous. Worse comes to worse…. I can just marry a rich guy, right? But that would entail me learning to cook…. nah, I can just stand on street corners and play my violin for money… right?
thanks, golzar, for helping the thoughts normally suppressed break through. <3
Women should not be permitted to leave the kitchen, the only exceptions being baby making and serving sandwiches to their significant other/guests. We are good for virtually nothing else, save sewing and cleaning.
My mom was just talking about how my grandmother was raised with “you are nothing without a man”, and all the physical and emotional abuse she endured. It honestly makes me physically ill, the things people are capable of. Speaking of being physically ill, has anyone found the kitten suffocator? I’d like to give that waste-of-space, feces sandwich, garbage humping rat a piece of my mind.
Getting along with people i’m not fond of. Being as brief as humanly possible while still being polite to someone and giving them more respect than they deserve is not particularly easy, and when they do everything in their power to purposefully be as irritating as they can, it most assuredly is not fun. But… I ain’t even mad. silly dipshits gon’ be silly dipshits.