. . Love Laced In Cyanide . .

Today was a day of remembrance for me through the good and bad. Tears were shed but isn't that just another wonder of life. I haven't been able to cry in a while. It's like I've been out of it since Monday. I don't feel to socialize with my friends or so called friends anymore. Is something wrong with me? Whenever i do talk to people I have to put up this extra happy front that can get on everyones including my nerves. Inside all I want to do is cry out and hope for someone to give my a big hug. I really do miss those the most. My mother rarely gave me hugs, only when I actually did really well like all 90's and 100's she would give me a hug and tell me she loved me. The problem was did I really love her back. All those years of beatings, or also known as abuse has clouded my perspective of her and other people. God, if there is one I sometimes wish I wasn't born, maybe my brother wouldn't have to hate anyone and he'll be a nicer person instead of taking all his hate out on me and other people. Sometime I wish that I could be born in to another family just to see what it's like to have someone to talk to/protect me to or someone who you can tell your secrets to and they won't tell. I wish to just experience that just once. I'm sick of my shitty life and this shit-hole town. It makes my sick to the stomach. That's most likely the reason why I'm a f**king bulimic and a cutter(past). Guess you probably didn't know that. I thank my oh-so-supportive family, extended and all. Fuck You.

Currently I am watching That's 70's Show because I seem to not want to go to sleep, damn you insomnia. I am too happy/jittery to go to sleep and I didn't have any sugar. My mother came storming in wanting to know the flight status of my uncle's flight from Guyana. She starts b**ching about when the freaking flight is coming in. She starts yelling, keep in mind that it is about 12:00 AM. I said,"I can't find the flight." She says,"I gave you the flight number." I said,"It's not showing up." She starts yelling something incoherent. I raise my voice a bit, not too loud, she hits me with a phone because it was just lying there. Closes blunt object to her. I have now a bruise on my arm, because of her repeated hitting. I want to hurt myself again. Whether it be resorting to cutting or digging my fingernails in to my arms until it bleeds. But you know what I am not going to hurt myself because all it is, is a cycle. I hurt then feel good. Later I feel worse and guiltier than before. I am tired of it. I am making the assumption that I am maturing, or so it is called. You know what makes me mad, those poser Emo kids that think their life is bad when isn't. All that shit really is a fad. Watch in a couple years it will die out and it won't be "cool," to be Emo. See who's left laughing. I am truly ashamed of my generation. Okay, I am going to stop talking and leave something for tomorrow.


Mood: Pissed Off
Listening To: The imaginary rain....
Reading: Nothing
Watching: That's 70's Show
Playing: Nothing
Eating: Nothing
Drinking: Nothing