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So.. there's a few things I want to get off my chest, because I'm more than fed up about it. So I'll close my chat windows, and lock my door, to insure the encouragement of flow in my much-desired rant. Though, on a personal note, I'd much rather have said the following to their horrible faces. The word 'anger' doesn't begin to describe my sentiment. Hatred, distemper, animosity, outrage.. Maybe all of those together, with a bit of 'conniption' sprinkled ontop. How can someone be so cruel? How can someone be so cruel to lie, and then watch someone be, quite literally, pounded into the ground because of it? You lied. And I caught you in the middle of it. You, and your family, Sir, are trash. You turned his father against him. You watched as he beat him into the ground. You even went as far as helping. And I see no remorse in your eyes. Nor do I hear it in your voice. And quite honestly, I'd like to see you bloodless. You and your mother, too. She's the most shallow, malicious thing I've ever met. And she lied right along-side you. You did exactly what you accused him of doing. You saw him tramped down for it. But still, you could care less. You could care less that his own father resents him, and almost wants nothing to do with him. As long as your life continues down it's pretty path. I hope you choke. Honestly. What did he do to you? How has he ever effected your life in a negative way? He barely even speaks to you, because you have never once even given him the chance at being accepted as a part of your family. You hated him as soon as you met him, and for what? For the fact that he's not just like you? That's pretty shallow. Like mother, like son. I don't care if you don't like me, either. And I don't care if she doesn't like me anymore. Why would I care? I hate you both. I hate you for what you've done to him. I hate you for watching him writhe in pain, while you spit on him with your laughter. Fucking prick. |
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It's a respect thing, I think. I'm not really sure why I feel ashamed, though. Why can't I have that 'I don't care' attitude? Why do I worry so much about getting scolded, or looked down upon? Why can't I shrug it off? In the long run, it's not really a big deal anyway.. But I keep crying over it. I feel bad that I spilled the milk, and so if I can't take it back, nothing is good enough. Even if I went out and bought a new carton of milk, they still have it in their knowledge that I spilled the first one, and I can't make them forget. It's causing me to feel disheartened about the future, and skew my plans for it.. I'm so ashamed. |
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So, once again, I find myself out of energy. I'm lacking it, because I try too hard at certain things that I really don't want to care about, honestly. But how does one force oneself to not care about something that, deep down, matters to them? I haven't reached that unearthing yet. I've ignorantly allowed my inner self to be taken advantage of, and now I'm paying for it. I hold too much emotion towards pleasing people, and worrying about what they think, and trying to make up for my past. I don't want to do it anymore. I don't want to care. I want to live my own life, and be happy for myself. I'm exhausted, trying to better myself for the standards that I think are held above my head. It goes on and on ad infinitum. But for what? What difference do these people I worry about make in my life? None. I don't, in the slightest bit, even enjoy their presence. So why do I make it such a big deal? I'm not really positive. I suppose I simply try to eliminate all visible faults, so as not to make myself an easy target, because the little things seem to effect me rather viciously. And I think it's necessary that, along with that, I take things as they are, and not try to change them. I couldn't change them, anyway. Some things are just out of possible reach. I shouldn't try talking to old friends again. I shouldn't try to apologize for the destruction of past relationships, months prior. I should just let it sink it, maybe see a lesson to learn through it, and move on. It seems to only cause more turmoil when I dig up those bones. And even if it doesn't cause problems, it still doesn't change anything, and I have to face that. It'll never be the same. And I can't change that. So there's no use in trying. I can only let them know that I care about them, and am sorry for holding the door open for them, as they walked out of my life. |