kill the drama.

i gotta say, signing online and having that delightful little fucking box pop up and remind me im under a watch is really fun. day 2 of my dad stalking me. im not having a good day. my mother gave a half an hour lecture about how i hate her, how i have no morals, no prioroties, how we have to adjust to my fathers behavior etc. she just doesnt get that i cant turn back into that little girl she remembers. shit im crying again. i put in again cuz i spent about an hour bawling after the lecture. i had really horrible thoughts about myself going thru my head and i dont know what to do under this pressure. i really dont. i have so much on my mind and i cant function normally. and im fucking PMSing, and i have spontaneously started tearing through out the past few hours. this is sad. why am i admitting to this. my dad has ruined my life. i wish i could get away from him. my mom said this is 'revenge' for not liking going to his office every fucking sunday and photocopy and help him sort files. right.

"You're more punk, hardcore, mod, straightedge, emo, indie than me. Your hair is cooler, your pants are tighter, you have more tattoos. You have cooler pins on your messenger bag and your favorite band is more obscure than mine. Your shoes are more vintage and so is your t-shirt. You own more black clothes than me. I don't even own a denim jacket. Your glasses are thicker and blacker than mine, the plugs in your ears are bigger. You know more people in bands and your black jelly bracelets are the envy of scenesters everywhere. Your photography is blacker and whiter, your Madradhair profile is wittier, and you have much better soul records. Your tie is whiter, or redder, or blacker. Your scene points are double, perhaps triple, mine. Because as we all know, that's what really matters. In a scene where the music has taken a backseat to the haircuts, you win and I lose."

posted by Jennie @ 9:23 PM