среда, 15 октября 2008 г.
about grainfields australia
I really must be tired if just talking to my mother on the phone manages to piss me off to the point where Iapos;m glad I restrained myself from saying something that would land me in deep shit. I think sheapos;s going through menopause too or something. But still. I know what I have to do. Iapos;m already beating myself up enough, worrying about getting the apps done and that I wonapos;t get into any of the colleges. I donapos;t need her to antagonize me about it too.
She reprimands me for just about everything I say.
To the point where I donapos;t want to do anything anymore except sit and wallow without her voice burning holes in my head.
Fucking cheongsams. How the fuck do you expect that of us? I should just not do it. Fuck that.
Iapos;m just tired. And I want to sleep. She doesnapos;t want me to go to the Mission game Friday either. Itapos;s a hassle, I guess. But I kind of do want to go. And yet, I kind of donapos;t. But I donapos;t want to listen to her. I donapos;t want to hear anything. November 1st is drawing closer and I guess the $300 for Nuzmanapos;s class pretty much went to waste. Itapos;s worrying me. I just donapos;t feel good enough. And that in itself is depressing and maddening.
I feel like Iapos;m not good enough anymore. For anything. Like Iapos;m a waste of space. And time. Good gods.
Nic
about grainfields australia, about grandfather clocks, about grandmas, about grandmothers.
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