I’m am in so much denial right now. This isn’t right. No one else is supposed to die in my class. It’s not fair. First Ryan and now Michael… I really can’t handle this. It’s too damn much…
Bill freaking Gates, why did I pick you for my essay? We had to pick a person who is influential in something (they had to have bio’s on them so it’s so sad I couldn’t write about Kubo-Sama) to write about and to continue in 10th grade and damn I just had to be lazy and pick a random book and write about that person didn’t I? I’m so hopeless. By the time I’m done writing this I’ll have procrastinated beyond repair. Well, bye sleep.
i feel like mr. brightside is one of those songs you’re gonna hear on the radio in the car 20 years from now after not hearing it in forever and your gonna just start sobbing bUT ITS JUST THE PRICE I PAY DESTINY IS CALLLLINGNG M E and your kids are gonna be like is she okay
Dear English essay,
Please write yourself, this is getting beyond boring. Thanks.
Sincerely, Angela. ♥
P.S. I hate you.
Yeah, my sister seems to love talking back. She isn't able to bite her tongue. Me, I either sit there, or on some days when I curl up into a ball, I tend to go all childlike. I've never tried to get involved, I can't bring myself to.
Same. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t able to butt in. Everyone gets so heated it’s hard to follow. I just shut down. I go on auto-pilot and let go of my emotions. After years of this, it gets easier to do that I guess. No one really knows how I feel about my family. I tell them halfheartedly because they wouldn’t be able to handle the real me. This weekend I kept blowing them off with excuses because it was too loud to talk to them. I really just didn’t want to talk about it when they asked either because they just wouldn’t understand…
I know how you feel. When my stepmom and dad fight I go to my room, either blast music or curl into a ball. Sometimes my sister and stepmom yell at eachother.
It’s just flipped huh…? I’ve always hated fighting. It’s unnecessary. That and the fact that no matter what you try to do you either make things worse or get pushed away and labeled on someone’s “side”. I do the same thing with music. I used to cry all the time, but now I’m null. If you were to look at my face while they were yelling, you would see and indifferent expression. My brother and I are the only spectators, but he gets in trouble and talks back unlike me where I just… Sit here.
Will you be okay?
Yeah, it’s always like this. My family isn’t what you could call normal. They all fight a lot. Usually it starts off with petty things and then progresses into issues that have been going on for a while. Most of the time it’s between my step-sister/mom and step dad who argue. I usually try to stay out of everything, and by me avoiding the situation, I’m left alone.
I actually like doing the dishes. The running and splashing of the water makes it hard to hear the screaming and arguing going on. Though its faint, I’m just glad I can get away, even if it is only a few feet.
In the silence of my mind, the paint of my thoughts splatter against the edge of every crevice in my skull.
The fresh smell of distraught lessons that were never learned pass repeatedly over my thought process until the memory of them simply fade in the background of the motions of my life.
Holding what I assume is my heart in my dead hands, my chest starts to weep, wither, and whine.
It is not the heart of which beats in my ever changing body, but the people of which I entrusted my fading memories to where my heart rests.
Rapidly stirring with a string of emotion, I split my frame open and claw at my very soul with only one thought:
Which way did the laughing shadows disappear?
Finally exploding with erupting thoughtlessness the world seems to spin, swirl, and twirl in every which way.
Now I’ve done it. Oh, I’ve done it.
I’ve sucked out my own breath and choked my tender neck with the rope of impurity.
Softly quivering in the light of God, I know I have sinned without a sense at all.
Letting on that I have no purpose left, no audacity to seek of justice left, so I just sigh and simply—
Why do I even have over 50 followers? Why do you bother with me? I don’t post pretty pictures or make witty comments that everyone can relate to. I don’t understand. Is it because you just want to laugh at my attempts? I’m just a depressed soul.
Although I get so hungry I could eat three meals, I don’t. I just repeat, I’m not hungry over and over, and eventually… I’m not. When I do eat, I feel ashamed. “Why do I deserve this food?” I always wonder. It’s true I should change, but people’s stares are too much to bare…Society and people judge so much it makes my chest hurt. Halfway though the day I get depressed with my thoughts. I hurt myself so much. It’s getting to the point where I just lie in bed for hours because I don’t have the energy to do anything but wish I wasn’t like this.
You think you’ve seen the worst ignorant and rude shippers until you check out the IR and IH tags on Instagram…