[	mood	|	happy	]
[	music	|	my chemical romance - welcome to the black parade	]

As always, I ended up neglecting this journal for way longer then I meant to. Oh, well. Hi, everybody?

So not much has really changed, except for my slow and painful slide into depression (this is called growing up, I'm told), which can be fought mostly with Panic! at the Disco music and reading, right now. I turned into a vegetarian overnight. I have a job as a cashier in a grocery store, where I discuss the prices of tomatoes and Britney's latest adventures and dream of squishing people's bread, and I still crave tattoos and piercings.

Oh, and I've gotten caught up in the rat race of trying to be skinny and attractive. Although most of the time I use my eyeshadow to paint butterflies on my face. I also clawed my way out of the Pits of Emo, despite the fact my hair is still black and bordering on being cut like a scene kid's. 

So, yeah, other then that, my best friend might be starting to hate me, my other friends are sneaking into my heart, I have an uncontrollable crush on a very hot, very gay stockboy, and everybody I know is having romantic drama. But me? I SIT ALONE AND LISTEN TO MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE. And then I read porn about them.

I really can't do this anymore.

Well, I can.
But I don't want to.

I shouldn't have to live under this.

[

mood

|

pessimistic

]

I know how to break someone's arm, how to blind them for life, how to snap their neck. I know most of the pressure points to hit if I want to take a person down. I know which arteries to cut if I want to kill someone. I'm not learning how to do this so I can attack people; I'm learning this so I can defend myself.

I'm a female. Apparently this means I'm constantly in danger of being raped, beaten or killed (or all of the above).  Apparently being female means, to some people, that I'm weaker, inferior, and less intellegent. According to what I've learned, having a uterus means I can look forwards to the joys of getting paid less, sexual harassment, and people condescending to me.

But the thing is, I don't have to put up with that crap.

I'm learning to fight now, with my fists and my words, so that I can protect myself against attackers; so that I can be in a good relationship; so I can choose when I want to have children, if I want to have them at all; so that I can get paid equally; so that I can stand up for others who haven't learned to fight for themselves. As one person, defending my rights could mean defending the rights of someone else. As one person, I do have the power to change things. And if I can do this, then anybody can.

My parents are still being evil and irrational. (Three years until I can leave.)

I love them, but they're crazy and they keep on trying to mold me into a better person instead of letting me be the insomniac, anti-social, messy, internet-addicted girl that I am secretly. I mean, sometimes they're great, and then other times they make my life hell with their stupid demands. Character-building activities are making me a whiny little bitch.

They mean well, obviously, but they're trying to raise me into the person they want. I'm not their person, or anybody else's person, and sometimes I'm not even sure if I'm my own person and not just a random soul floating along the tide of stolen knowledge.

Anyways! That wraps up the faux-deep part of tonight's session. 

My parents have scheduled a week-long hiking trip on the day that the Seventh Harry Potter book comes out.
*facepalm*
So, not only am I not allowed to dress up like the complete and utter nerd that I am and go at midnight, I can't read the book at one in the morning because I need to wake up at five to go fecking hiking. Then I have to wait a week to get back to the internet, which by then will have exploded with rampaging fans and by the time I get back I'll have missed it all! 
And my parents went out for ice cream with my two brothers. Leaving me behind.
*angst*

[

mood

|

nauseated

]

Update in the Saga of the Mental Parents:

Now they want me to run. At seven in the morning. For an hour and a half.

Every day.

IN THE SUMMER.

...

Does anyboy want to adopt me?

[

mood

|

sad

]

Is there something about the summer that makes parents insane?

Because honestly, all I want to do is sleep, really. That's not offensive in any way. Most parents would love having a quiet, well-behaved teenager who can make her own food and plan her own trips and pay for her own things.

But my parents...whole different story. When I found a job to apply for, they told me I wouldn't get it unless I cut my hair (which is a little shaggy, yes, but they're also telling me to grow out my hair, so whatever) and then my sheep-like older brother decided to apply for the EXACT SAME JOB. (older brother! MY OLDER BROTHER! IS HIS BRAIN BROKEN OR SOMETHING?) So my parents merrily go along and plan out how we'll swap shifts and carpool and everything, while I'm thinking: stay out of it, this is MY job, not yours, and definately not his.

AND NOW!  They want me to FRICKING COOK FOR THEM! I AM FIFTEEN YEARS OF AGE AND ON SUMMER BREAK AND I DO NOT HAVE TO PUT UP WITH THIS NONSENSE, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Sure, they're saying it'll help me build skills for university, but THAT IS A LIE (university students survive on beer and pizza, everybody knows that) because really my parents just want to kick back and relax. Which is fine by me. I can forage for food perfectly well and I make a mean sandwich.

It's just that they're SO HUNG UP on the idea of a perfect family (three square meals a day, daughter duitfully being a 'good girl' and locked up in the kitchen, sons out and about learning to drive and getting jobs (never mind that I'm the only one actually interested in cars) but the point is, they've got unreal Pleasantville-style expactations that will never be met, much to their dismay) - anyways, they're so hungover on the american dream they've no room to allow for what other people want. Like, for example, me. I like sleeping in and making sandwiches for breakfast, lunch and dinner and having my hair in my face. I like my room messy. I like being alone for long stretches of time so I can explore the internet. I like unhealthy food and hanging out with my friends and being outside and writing novels and creating art to decorate the walls of my room with. However, they've got an entirely different view of me. And that involves cooking.

I could go on, but - I know I've got it good and everything. I get it, I do. I just wish I wasn't being held up to this model of perfection they have planned out and was instead allowed to just be who I am, becuase really, I don't think I'm that bad.

[

mood

|

cynical

]

People annoy me SO MUCH lately.

Case in point: teenagers coming to earth-shattering conclusions, such as the fact that we are all different or that people are generally dipshits or that alcohol makes you hungover or that the grass is green. We KNOW this already. Please stop labelling these regurgitated fragments of propaganda as 'deep thoughts', because THEY'RE NOT.

And now that that's been said, I would like to announce that I have come to a conclusion: there is no hope for humanity.

First off, people in power will always be corrupt. And even if you get rid of one corrupt person, another one will pop up in its place. So ranting against the government is useless; first of all, nattering about how Bush sucks isn't helping anything, and even when the Bush administration goes out of power, there's no guarantees that the next president will be any better. 

And it doesn't even matter anyways, because people will only get off their asses and do something if they themselves or something they value are threatened. Sure, it's easy to express concern and horror about Iraq and the depleted ozone layer, gas prices and wars and the government and just about everything under the sky, but as long as your comforts aren't majorly threatened, YOU AREN'T GOING TO DO ANYTHING. Several people flout this rule-of-thumb, but to make anything on a global scale work, you need LOTS OF PEOPLE. And as above stated, people will not haul themselves out of their armchairs unless their things are threatened, so until the next world crisis, nothing is going to change.

Thirdly, and this is directed to high school people, sitting on the sidelines of life and making snide comments about everybody else doesn't make you popular; spending every night out getting high and drinking your liver out isn't making you more interesting. Eventually people will realize that all the snide comments don't mean much coming from a mouth that's easy with them, and people will get sick of hearing about how many jello shooters you did when you tell them for the hundreth time.

And finally, and this is for mostly everybody, I'm not on drugs. My vast resevoirs of knowledge comes from keeping my eyes open and from harnessing the magical powers of the Interwebs, not from getting high or going to parties. Just thought I'd point that out. :D

Wow, it had been forever since I've posted.

Things are mostly the same; high school is a soap opera, I'm friends with a epileptic goth stoner kid who's two inches shorter and two years older then me, which is kind of scary (if you ask me what part of the that is scary, I reply to you: all of it), I've developed a passionate love for vintage cars which is creeping out my poor unsuspecting Pleasantville Parents, and finally I keep on trying to be depressed and unhappy BUT THEN I learn that there's a guy in my town who dresses up as a jedi or jesus and helps little old ladies cross the street. Like, THANKS A LOT JEDI GUY, you've totally ruined my angst.

Anyways. That's mostly my life so far. I have nineteen days until school is over forever. Well, for the summer, but that can be considered forever, right? More later.