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Another day, another agony |
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<center> its another day, a cool, wet, rainy saturday. the day began well, i awaking to the cool silence of an empty home, the hallways, though naturaly shadowy, seemed even more darkened by the storm raging outside the sturdy walls of my home.
it had gone well, i watching tv for a few hours, enjoying my time alone in the solitude as my brother slept. yet it was not ment to last.as the day dragged on, my brother awoke.
oh how i long to have just slit his throat..
he sought me, as the "woman", to be his slave, as my father had raised him, beleiving that i would, as my father had told him and i, that i would be grateful to lick his nasty feet clean.
yeah.. right.
seeing that i would not serve him, he set out to cause his usual mayhem, to ruin my life. like the spoilt, immature brat he is, he took over everything i was doing, tossing aside my work, stealing the remote to the tv, ruinening my breakfast, and so on.
to see his fresh blood, still warm from pulsing in his veins, forced out by his own panicked heart, staining the crisp white walls of the parlor just beside his room, i would pay to see.
luckily, he went out of town with my older brother, Scott, the fatass. the boy of a thousand pounds, is what i call him, such as James is the boy of a thousand demands and excuses. that was not to last either, and they returned within two hours. damn.
to ease my nerves, still tired from lack of sleep the night before due to my twin's needs, i set out to make tea... and, of course, the remaining was used to make james's precious kool-ade, just another source of unneccessary energy and harm to the body, with no real taste, and no real reason behind it with no vitamins.
my eyes burning with unshed tears and aching for sleep, i still sit here, waiting for my good friends to come on, or a possible phonecall, the warm voice of Housecat, my elder friend in Washington state, still calling me dead ((as he told me, because he cannot remember people's names, so he calls everyone dear. lol)).
with a soft groan i deal with the stupidity that has threaded its way onto our internet, into our servers. the raw, talentless, Christian, niave stupidity that is born into our nation each day, and continues to grow and develope like a disease, and the cure is before their eyes, yet they are blind.
i could use a hug, couldnt you?
life is truely an amazing thing. as i write this, i can only admire this little plant beside me, these three stalks of bamboo that, even without care or acknowledgement, or even a source of nuitrician, grows strong in this dim, dreary, polluted room in the house i call -hell-. truely a beautiful thing.
i miss my music.
at one time, i had a vast collections of songs that inspired me in some way, or were just pleasant to the ear. hundreds of songs, all at the tips of my fingers, easily accessable, and with clear, brilliant sound even on these weak little speakers. but, no more are they, my brother having dropped my laptop that contained them, or having deleted the files, or programs, i played them on. never will i be able to gather all the songs as i had, having long forgotten the names of many. only in my heart do they still play.
damn that www.launch.yahoo.com for they have not the songs.
one i would like to have back, though, if i were given the chance, is My December, by the well-known band Linkin Park.a lovely song. i miss it so. well, that is all for now. if i come up with more for today, i shall update the entry. goodbye for now.
four hours later...
damn it all... damn damn damn.
i am very picky about my stuff. specialy about my room. my room is SACRED. its.. or it WAS.. my one place that my brothers had not been. where i can trust my stuff to be safe,and there wont be nasty, germ covered, diseased hands all over it. but no.. i cant have that.
i cant have one little room where i know they cant go. s**t... they touched my stuff. i have nothing sacred anymore. they stole things, they have touched things, LAYED ON MY BED.
these nasty little ********.
my older brother WETS THE ******** BED!!! he isnt mature enough, or smart enough, to get his 400 pound fat a** out of his kings sized bed just to piss at night. and he wets it EVERY NIGHT and, if my parents dont force him, WILL SLEEP IN HIS OWN PISS TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW. he doesnt SHOWER. he's 17 damn it.. he needs to grow up.
as for the little b***h James. hes my twin, so hes the same age i am. 14. he craps in his own pants, and walks around in it. its so ******** nasty. the little retard.. hes such a kiss a** too. always actin like the perfect little boy. a total little brat. always seeking attention, tryin to get everyone to do things for him. and if things don go his way, he cries an throws a ******** fit. then i get in trouble. joy.
i want to shove their heads down the toilet and let them drown in their own piss.
that brings up another point. they dont even flush the damn toilet
for ******** sakes.. they need to learn to grow up. and scott wont even wash his sheets or underwear. he has to have mom do it. he just leaves the unsanitary, diseased mess on the floor. its so sick. specialy when you step in it. i am so tired of the place...
i'm close to killin myself just to get out..
*sigh* oh well. thats enough of my bitchin for now. i'ma go watch tv. see yall later...
god i feel like crying.. i need a hug so bad..
six hours later
its midnight.. another long night ahead. he stress and pain of dealing with the endless insults and harsh words of my brothers, just with the struggle to continue living, along with a few mental issues of my own, making it difficult to see why i still survive, and what reason i have to go on.
drowning my worries and pains with tea and pills, struggling not to cry. i cannot let them see my tears. i must not cry.. they cannot see me cry.. to see how truely weak i am.
my very soul bound by the chains of regret, sorrow and despair. i look to the endless sky above, and how i long to be free. to be truely happy for once. to go where i wish to go, to see what i think is insteresting and cool, not what they enjoy.. i wish to rid my life of these bastards. these people who have so much controle over my life. with each new day they add another link to my chains that drag me lower and lower into the pits of hell, eating away at my soul, breaking through to my very heart, the one thing i have placed so many barriors on. the barriors are cracking and chipping away. how much more can i stand? my mind is fading, images of death and decay haunting my dreams, ghostly visions of places i have never been before, hellish images i long to be rid of. yet they do not care..
they never care...
i need a hug so badly. i wish to cry, and to sleep. just, for once, to be soothed in anothers arms, told everything is ok, even though it could never be ok. to be rocked softly, like a mother is often portrayed with their child, their voice warm, soothing, and loving. how i long to experience that. to truely know someone is there, and that i am loved. even my.. boyfriend.. myk.. seems to have a girlfriend "irl".
does that truely matter?
it hurts, yes, but i know he cannot be here for me.. but.. to have someone else claim he is theirs.. i do not know how to handle this..
why cant someone be here to help me? or give me a ******** manual for life or something? why must i be alone..
pic of the day</center>
 Silver_Flame118 · Sat Oct 09, 2004 @ 09:37pm · 1 Comments |
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