The Week From Hell

I still don’t understand why people want to follow my blog. All I do is bitch and complain. Give a bit of insight here and there but it’s all basic common sense. But, apart from that, thank you. I’m not really that interesting, I just have REALLY shitty luck… tends to amount to really interesting stories though.

I think that’s the one think I am good at, telling stories. Creativity is my life source. Without a pen or pencil … without a paint brush or ballet shoes. I really am hollow.

First, to start, I am well aware that a bad day-in my case week, is not enough to entitle me as to say I have a bad life. I don’t. I’ve had the pleasure of meeting and be-friending wonderful characters along my 21 years. I got to travel the world and see things most people dream of. But let me tell you in my life, when it rains it pours.

What I’m not going to do is apologize for feeling bad for myself. I have every right to. However, If I treat anyone poorly I am very apologetic about that. Usually in times like this I tend to shut myself off from the world. No texts or phone calls… I’ll sing sad songs at the top of my lungs or I’ll paint pictures of falling skies and tides.

But today none of that seems to be enough. I’ve always been impulsive. It’s innately in me and its nothing I can use concentrated will power or determination to overcome. I always will act before thinking and speak the first thing on my mind. And I’ve always been good at creating these elusive fictitious worlds in my head and just escaping for a bit. Take a tip to my roof and smoke a cig, picturing myself anywhere but here.

But I can’t anymore. Maybe it’s a part of growing up. Maybe its that voice in the back of my head that says ‘Grow some balls and face your mistakes.’

I really am my own devil.

Sometimes when you take a step back and look at the world, the things around you, the things no one else really cares nor wants to pay attention to. You become really bitter.

There’s so much hate, and anger and sadness and frustration in this world.

I’ve always had to be nosey. I want to know the cause of these things. The reason behind the emotion.

The problem with the outsider is that he sees too deeply and too much. And what he sees is essentially chaos


I don’t want my life to be so broken. I look at the people around me and what they have to go through every day and it kills me. I don’t want to be like the ones before me. I don’t want to be used and grow up with a suppressed hatred and pass that on to my children. I don’t want to watch the ones I care about do whatever they can to keep someone in their lives, because that trait is learned all too well by those around them, and its passed on. This world is cruel and it takes us and chews us up and spits us out until were nothing but worry and confused and that poison ends up poisoning everyone else. The world is genocide in the way it treats us. So many people are quick to discourage, but no one wants to give love. Selfishness is the currency, and peace just seems impossible to find. As much as I hate the government I think it plays a really essential part in everything. Besides our damnation.   Think about it… If you take away the government, these high up officials with their high up brows. What happens to the ones who blindly follow them? What do the idiot bureaucrats do?  They have no free will. They would have no direction but their own. The world would quite literally become anarchy.

My car hates me. I’m like completely sure of it. Twice it’s died. At the most opportune moments let me tell ya! Maybe it was just a sign, an omen that I shouldn’t have been doing what I was.

My mom got rid of my dog yesterday. I had no idea. My Emily. I literally sat by her pillow pet and cried for an hour. And I couldn’t take it anymore so I had to paint something. I haven’t talk to my mom since.. until today. And it was basically her asking me for money. It took every ounce of self restraint I had to be civil when replying. I woke up today to give her a hug. And I had to leave.. It sounds dumb to some people but I truly do get along with animals more than I do with people. And now shes gone. Just like that. And she’s probably scared and confused and sad… I can’t talk about this anymore.

I haven’t actually had a conversation with my mom since then. Just texting to which I give one worded replies. And the sad thing is, I don’t even care. I’m just tired of being tired. I’m tired of being taught hate, and anger, judgement,how to not trust. I’ve got enough trust issues of my own than to take on another’s.

I need to get away. I need to just pack up and move somewhere far away. I have nothing going for me, and especially not here. I wonder how many people’s lives would have been different If I had never moved. And when I think of the happienss they could have had, that they should have had, It makes me feel miserable.

Work blows. One person, who I was never acutally with in the first place, leads to an entire store. And that’s all it takes. One rumour started out of whatever reason and my name is thrown on the sidewalk and stepped on repeatedly. I’ve never had to be so cautious as to what I say, who I say it to, who I’m talking to or seen with. The one reason I got hired is the reason I’m being watched like a hawk. All of this trouble, from one person. From one thing that hurt to even hear never was a thing.

And the deciding factor is. I need to go. Somewhere that its alright for me to be a loner for a while. It’s alright for me to be selfish and finally do something that makes me happy. Not everyone else. To sit back and watch and try and trust again, to have faith again. To know that not all people are racist and rude and spiteful.

It’s weird to pack bags that were never unpacked. I guess I always knew I was just passing through. I’ve always been a gypsy. a bird. I’ve never had a home. My home was the people I met, the stories I was told and the way those stories made me feel. I don’t know where I’ll end up, how long I’m going to be there.

I don’t know anything anymore. But I’m okay with that. It gives me room to grown and to make mistakes and for once to not be expected to be so damn perfect.


I guess we’ll see how this goes.




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