Wednesday, June 23
I'm Nicotine. I'm Coming Clean.
I'm curled up in bed with a pack of cigarettes in hand; contemplating whether or not I should light up so early in the morning. If I do, it'll set precedent for the entire day, and I'll probably have another somewhere down the line.
I wanted to sleep in, but as soon as it was seven, my stupid internal clock woke me up. That and my dad barging into my room six times within a fifteen minute period giving me various 'instructions' for the day. I cannot have the car, he says. It's basically his attempt at trying to keep me home and crippled.
God, I hate feeling so helpless. I hate being at the mercy of other people. I hate having limited resources to do my own thing.
Sometimes I think I work really hard for nothing. I'm hollowed out already. Sometimes I feel absolutely nothing and it's beautiful. Other times I just feel angry and it's frustrating. I'm constantly thrown back and forth between indifference and loathing and I can't decide which one I prefer. I don't think I can properly explain how it feels to be in this 'family'. I don't think I can convince you that it isn't a dramatization at all.
"I know you can't wait until you graduate and get the hell out of here, but until then, you're still a part of this family."
Well, at least they know I'll never stay.
Seems like a bitch thing to do, no? Just abandon them. Never look back. You have to be one cold hearted bitch to do that, huh?