Sticks and stones may hurt me, but your words will not harm me.
That’s how it’s supposed to be right?
I guess not.
I’m writing this while my parents are yelling. Again. This time it’s about how I’ve ruined my own life…how I’m not like anyone in the family…how I don’t fit in this family…how I’ll never amount to anything…and how…
And it hurts.
It hurts a lot. As much as I try to block it out, it hurts to know that I can and will probably never make anyone happy.
But I don’t need them. I have a good life going.
It’s a bit tricky at times…but I’ll get through it.
I am weak. But I’m getting stronger.
Just need some time.
Gah… I want it to be monday already. I want to get everything done so I can do more things.
Just a random writing blurb in my day.
Back to work on
two three essays, two newspaper stories, a newscast, a psa, a special project, and whatever else is left.
I hate sleeping. I hate driving. I hate myself for wasting time.