i offered help but i'm learning i guess i shouldn't have even thought of it. my attitude was laughed at once again. degraded. disrespected. humiliated in front of everyone and i couldn't even defend my position. but.....
i did have the opportunity to team up with a former suppressor against cruelty and destruction.
i wanted to write in my blog again to maybe settle a few thoughts in my mind lately. i haven't written a poem or anything with real heart for so long. i haven't really even listened to music very much except for a few drunken nights interpol and modest mouse. that's all going to have to change. i have been feeling so bad lately i can't explain it. i get this feeling of wanting to run away/die/tell everyone to fuck off can't you see it's hard for me? but in reality that doesn't seem to matter anymore and it gets worse. i realize it never did because nothing seems to ever get better everything seems to really get worse. so becoming older and becoming stronger could be seen as a character's progression in a video game. if you go around picking flowers all day you will gain strength in potion making but when a big creature comes along you will die.
my life has been really bothering me lately. my life when i didn't know i had my own life to think of. when i didn't think there was anything else but the street i grew up on and the people who didn't care us kids and all of it. being afraid of the police and my mother playing on that forever. forever. and that's the meat of the issue. how can a daughter be so afraid of the police because of her mother. how could she do this all to me. i want to write about it. i want it all out in the open like a tell all bestseller but my story is too gruesome. i can say one thing to start out that doesn't make me feel bad at all to say out loud. no one can tell me this is my fault and i'm really the one to blame after all because i'm the only one who knows after all.
right before 8th grade graduation a CD from columbia house came to our address. it was a third eye blind CD, my favorite band at the time. it took my mom and step dad a few weeks of interrogating the four of us: me, a 12 year old, an 11 year old, and a 6 year old and doing stuff like withholding all privileges until someone confessed. i was unfortunate enough to be the chosen one to be grounded for 3 months, yes the entire summer, for ordering the CD that just randomly showed up at our house. i did not order it. i fought and fought with them about it until i started to believe i really did order it. they told my they knew i did and slammed it into my head so much i became a believer in their story about me. mind you, this is not the first time my mom used this tactic to get me to hate myself. supplying reasoning that it was my favorite band how could she be wrong. it was only after the 3 months of torture, isolation and nightly physical fights with my drunk mom did my brother admit to me that he ordered the CD. i, of course, yes i did, i rushed to tell my mom but guess what. big surprise she did not care one bit i was so upset, i was and i guess i still am very very upset about it. the address on the CD's packaging was our address but the name of the person supposed to receive the package was DUDE PERSON. and that's is not me. mom i am not dude person and even though it has been ten years i still regret ever living with you to let you ground me for three months for something i did not do.
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