I like her, she’s just a horrible bitch. And sometimes I really want her to fuck off and die. I think it’s because I’m a teenager and she’s my mother. You know what? To hell with this crap: I just hate her. I swear to fucking god, I want to kill her. What the hell is her damn problem? Why the fuck does she insist on being such an irrational bitch?
I’m fed up with this shit. God, every single fucking time she has a damn problem she gets pissed and suddenly it’s my problem. I’m the fat fucking piece of shit and you can’t seem to shut the fuck up about it.
Fuck you and your inability to publish your paper. Fuck you and all of damn work problems. Leave me the hell out of your damn fucking life. Fuck you, you don’t know what’s going on. Fuck you. I swear to god, I don’t care you’re my damn mother. You suck as a parent! You need to go eat shit and die. I hate you. FUCK YOU LADY, YOU WITH YOUR FUCKING STICK UP YOUR ASS. YOU ARROGANT SON OF A BITCH. GO. AND. DIE. ASSHOLE.
I don’t ever want to see her again. I don’t ever want to hear her voice, her broken English and bad grammar, her mispronunciations, her stupid remarks and her damn laugh. Every about her, sometimes, just irritates me. I don’t know why I have to deal with this crap. And life goes on, blah blah blah. I honestly think I stay in this house and put up with this because my computer is here, my TV here and all the rest of my crap. If it weren’t for the internet and the PC, I’d pack up and leave and never come back. I don’t think I’d make to sixteen, honestly I don’t want to. So much shit in this world and I don’t even get anything out of it. I go to school, I come back, I do it again the next day, I get nothing. I waste my life striving against millions of other people and I’m sure as hell not the one to come out on top. My life, all of this random trauma and emotional angst leads nowhere, I’m a small fucking bleep on the face of earth and when I die, and people forget about me, I’m gone. I’ve never existed even, my existence is so petty and insignificant, I hate even trying. I want to live like a pig, no superfluous thoughts about my being, I don’t even care about my being. I want food, sleep and entertainment. Scratch that, just food and sleep and for the rest of the world to leave me the fuck alone. And then when I get bored, I’m going to go and die. And see what death is like. If it’s just darkness, I’m going to like it. I hate the world, you know that? Because of all these little things that I can’t do right to fight into the human world, I’m fat, I’m ugly, I’m lazy and I’m stupid and I’m just retarded. The world is retarded. I hate this place. I don’t have anything worthy of trying, I have no skills, no talents, my friends, save for a few, are fucking assholes. My mother calls me a piece of shit, it’s my mother, ahaha….I love this place, I swear to fucking god, I want to nuke the planet and just laugh when everyone dies. People are annoying, I dislike people in general. They’re selfish, greedy and assholes. Every single fucking one of them, save for a few, are just so damn annoying. They need to, first off, shut the hell up and die. Among other things….I. want. To.die. blah. Fuck life.
There’s a place in Spain, according to Morgan, that lets people smash up used electronics. Stress relief, I want to go there because all of the electronics in this house are functioning and I don’t want to smash up anything.
People need to fuck off and leave me alone.
And the stupid thing, the really stupid fucking thing, I didn’t do any fucking thing to any of them. Nothing, I’ve said nothing to her, I did nothing to her so why the fuck is she such a bitch? If she didn’t like me, if she hates me why the fuck am I still around? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU YOU BITCH!?
I don’t want to see her, hear her or even remember her. I don’t want to stay here anymore. I don’t understand what’s so good about parents. She’s never made me feel fucking happy ever. I hate all of you. I hate this. I want to kill everyone.
No one’s ever made me feel so fucking miserable.
The only reason I think I’m still alive is because I’m just too damn scared to kill myself. I have no friends, my family hates me, what the hell do I live for? Nothing, no one, not even myself because I think I want to die. And I’d sure as hell hurt a lot less on the inside if I died, but when it comes down to it, I’m just scared. I haven’t felt a real fucking thing since I was seven and I left China and cried because I didn’t want to leave. What was that feeling? Sadness? I don’t even fucking remember. I’ve felt about two things since then, anger and annoyance, possibly irritation. I hate everything. What’ve I been doing for seven fucking years? Hating every single goddamn thing, ever. I’ve never liked anything, I can’t like anything. I’m so fucked up and selfish. There are people out there in worse situations than this, but at least I’m under the impression that they can feel emotions. That despite all of their suffering, I think they can feel happy. I’m not fucking happy. I’ve never been happy. Nothing makes happy ever. I want to die. I’m dying as I live, yes I fucking am. Fuck all of this, why the hell do you want to live so much? It’s pointless, it’s so fucked up beyond recognition. FUCK EVERYTHING.
I want a lock on my door, so she can stop barging in her and annoying me. I never want to see her again. I never want to hear her speak. I don’t even want memories of her. I want to erase her being from my life. I’d rather be an orphan than have to endure her crap. She does not love, she doesn’t even like me, yet I must live with her because she gave birth to me. I hate this debt I have. I hate being indebted to such a person. She doesn’t give a shit about anything. I want her to stop fucking everything up. I want her gone. I hate her. Spare me the morals and the ethics and all that crap people made up, spare me. I hate her.
I can’t say I want her dead, I just want to my affiliation, my association with said person to end. To terminate. So that in the near future, I won’t be doing this, so in the near future I can come a little bit closer to being happy. Or at least more content with my life than now.
Fuck it, I just want to die. I hate being alive. It’s done me no good whatsoever.
Today was the first day of my summer test prep school. I wasn’t too excited about the whole thing. I woke up at seven, left at eight, got off the seven train and took the escalator up at the Roosevelt Ave. exit around nine thirty, an hour early. There’s a tent set up behind the school to give out class schedules. I went there, left with an hour to kill. There was this old lady, well maybe not old but mid fifties, house wife type, severe, almost incoherent Chinese accent. Her kid, one Jeffrey Wang, a moderately tall Chinese kid (like the rest of us,) nothing to write home about, was taking the same courses I was, SAT prep. He wasn’t in any of my rooms, I overheard. He’s in T,Z,Z, Kevin showed me my schedule, S, X, X, surprisingly he remembered my name. I’ve been going to Mega for the past five years, I’d be even more surprised if he didn’t know.
I walked around Flushing for an hour. Just in big circles, up and down blocks. Stopped by a bakery near the seven train, bought iced coffee for a dollar twenty five, I think. I was tempted to go and get Starbucks, but some remote, usually inexpressive and subdued part of me decided cheap, poisonous (according to my mother) Chinese bakery coffee was what I wanted. I got what I asked for, cheap Chinese iced coffee. There’s something to it, just being normal.
Went back to the tent place, no one’s there. I asked out loud if I was still too early, everyone heard me, no one listened. So, I sat and waited in a beige folding chair under the white tent canopy for about five minutes. This teacher’s assistant, TA, came out with the schedules. Suffering from an overwhelming Chinese accent he handed them out. Rooms, S, X, X, I already knew that. Writing, Math, English, 12:30~3:30, Monday through Friday.
I wasn’t really looking forward to Mega this year. My friend, Tina, who for the past three years, had gone to Mega with me wasn’t going this year. This kid named Gleb, who I had a completely, for a lack of better words, fubar relationship with wasn’t going to be there, that was a plus. My mother signed me up for SAT prep, I somewhat volunteered for it. Sitting around all summer with nothing to do, in the end, is detriment to my deteriorating mind.
My other friend, Linda, well to be honest, I never truly liked Linda much. Sometimes, granted, her company was somewhat enjoyable, but I’ve always tried to be an arm’s length away from her. I never really liked people like Linda. I don’t even remember how we became friends. My, possibly mistaken memory, is that she just latched onto me since we take the same train home. To be honest, part of the reason I never truly liked her, was because I’m somewhat jealous. Almost, but then I tell myself that I don’t want what she has. I like what I have, but sometimes, I can’t help but admit that I want to be a dimwit, I want a size four body, I want some random junior to come and hit on me. She always tells me that guys hit on her. It use to bother me, because guys don’t look at me, but it stopped. Old guys on subways, ugly Asian kids, perverts on the street in Flushing hit on her. It’s disgusting and somewhat disturbing that she finds pride in these things. I guess I would too if they hit on me, but that’s what I tell myself to feel better.
And she also has this whole thing for Harry Potter and England. I’m not sure if I resent her obsession, or just plain don’t give a shit about it. Harry Potter is, frankly, not worth my time. Eight hundred pages of nothing important, nothing deep, nothing that’s going to teach me anything, nothing I can appreciated. In any case, Harry Potter fandom is a level beyond stupidity, a level beyond anything. It’s horrendous, it’s overrated, it’s unnecessary, it kills everything about Harry Potter that I might’ve found enjoyable. I also dislike Linda’s accent and her constant need to pick on people. She doesn’t like anyone. She can’t like anyone.
Honestly, she’s a bitch. I hate that she’s a bitch and only sometimes do I even come close to being okay with her. I’m a good liar, excellent in fact. I’ll keep it this way, because I’d like a friend this summer, even if it’s a false friend. I’m desperate, I’m desperate.
Writing class was a bit of a bore. SAT I is just entering my radar, bleeping on the outer edges, fading in and out, a shadow that flickers with the changing light. I’m trying to avoid it, it’s there though, it follows me and I’d have to come to terms with it sooner or later. Better sooner, but I’m hoping for later. Mr. Haag, never had Mr. Haag. There’s a random black kid, Allen in our class. Mega is made for Asian parents to send their Asian kids to so they can get into Stuy, so they can get into Harvard or some other Ivy League. Sprinkled among the Chinese are some Indians, Koreans and maybe a Japanese guy. Gleb was the only white guy and this Allen kid is the only black. I’m not being racist, or maybe I am, but that’s how it is in Mega. We crack racists jokes, it’s comes with an understanding that it’s just a joke. People who can’t take things in jest annoy me.
We had some writing prompt, “Is it true that the strong do as they wish?” accompanied by a quote from a random philosopher who sounded Greek, “Justice is just the interest of the stronger.” I personally thought that it was the most ridiculous prompt. It was just plain dumb, but to get into Harvard, I was going to have to bullshit my way through 300-350 words regarding this topic. I’m disappointed, and maybe relieved and worried, all at the same time.
After writing was lunch break, thirty minutes and I went to meet Linda. I was going to have lunch with these two girls I met earlier. Linda kept on calling them fobby and after we got, I walked Linda back to Mega to get her schedule. She was in different rooms than me. She had a whole fit, I’m actually glad. This limits the amount of time I’d have to see her to make the times I do bearable. It’d be alright if she was in my class, I wouldn’t mind, but it’s calmer without.
Math class, math class was just math. A whole bunch of Stuy sophomores, soon to be juniors, were in my math class. One kid named Ray, who isn’t too bright, is in all three of my classes. Mr. Gong was our teacher. I’ve had Mr. Gong once, for something or another and he was interesting, funny little man. He spoke fast and messed up often and when he did, a bit of a hidden Chinese accent that I think we all suffer from, English being our second language, slipped through. He went on a whole rant about how terrible Spiderman 3 was and I had to agree. He then talked about how gym teachers earn just as much as a math teacher, extra if they coach a team. I thought that was funny. When were going over the classwork, I didn’t know the answer to my question, so I asked Ray, who surprisingly gave me the correct answer. After answering, Ray raised his hand to ask Mr. Gong for the answer to the question he, himself, just gave me the answer to. He’s not very bright.
English class was a monumental bore. It’s vocab, sentence completion and reading comprehension. English teachers are marvelously weird and some of them even deserve to be called ‘cool’, rarely is that the case. This, Ms. Mare, a blond woman of average height, dressed in a transparent white, frilly blouse, with a black tank top under, struck me as a very personable, yet strange person. She told us to bring in reading material and index cards to build up our vocabulary. Silly thing was, I had both a book and an index card in my bag. I like reading with a scrap of people to jot down words I’m not sure of, habit.
Judging from this introduction to SAT prep this summer, the only thing I’m truly concerned about is Math and possible grammar parts. Math, I just have to pay attention in math, I never do well in math. I’m hoping my English makes up for it, even in English, I’m not too good. Also, looking at the people in my class, there is but one okay looking guy. The thing about spending your summer with Asians, your chance of having a summer fling is nonexistent. They are ugly and just…ugly. The one that looked moderately normal moved from Ohio to Jersey, name’s Danny.
Train ride home with Linda, boring. Picked up keys from mom, boring. Didn’t have to go to the lab for work since Dr. Rifkind was on vacation, excellent. Went home, did homework, watched Saikano. And that’s where my whole day and being fell apart at the seams for the several hours I spent watching Saikano.
I honestly don’t know why made me feel the way I did. There was just something so painful and stark and candid and sweet and beautiful. I wept, I wept, from episode ten to the end. The deaths, the people just kept on dying and you wanted to hold on to them like a flame in the wind. You wanted them to live, you wanted them to live. And their love, Chise and Shuji,
There’s nothing I can really say, it was so stupefying, so powerful, like a tsunami it hit me.
I haven’t felt like that in a while, maybe it was the first time. The first time I lost a total sense of self and watching the animated characters across my computer screen, I felt like my heart was bleeding, small droplets oozing out of a pinprick hole in my heart.
Why is it all so pointless? I have I truly nothing but my own mind, my own imagination, my own flawed consciousness? Is the end of the world the edge of the mind? Is reality not what’s tangible but the ether from which our thoughts are born? Is there nothing real in this world, nothing real but me? Have I only myself to rely on? Is love just a figment of that mind, an illusion created to maintain some semblance of connection to another person? Or is it real. Is love the real end of the world?
“We will love. We will live.”
It’s not even New Years yet, in fact, quite far from it, but I’m feeling strangely resolute and determined. I’m not sure what’s the source of this new found…urge and necessity to bring about change, but I’m going to act on it. Perhaps, it’s my encroaching birthday and the feeling that I’ve been wasting my life doing nothing. So anyways, here’s to gradual change…
The trivial issues…
running and keeping my anime blog, nirai kanai over on WordPress, hosted by animeblogger.net.watch a lot more anime. I suppose I’d have to, in order to run the blog, but I feel like I’ve been ignoring my hobby lately, so time to pick it up again.
leveling up on MapleStory. I’ve dropped MapleStory for well over a week, but I still want to bring my Chief Bandit up to level 80. And sometimes, I miss my friends on MS, silly.write a noteworthy fanfiction. This one is really silly and it’s just me dreaming big. start writing a book, of sorts….I’ve been trying to write a book for the past four years. I’m still where I was four years ago, two sentences and maybe a third.actually prepare for the SAT I. I’m only a freshman, nothing to be worrying about, yet. Like the motto of my prep school, planning ahead is wise. Plan ahead I shall.loose weight. I’m ‘chubby’. Twitchy subject, my physical health, according to my mother and my total lack of a love life are both endangered by my weight. I’m in denial, completely, about this one.read. Schoolwork made me have no free time to read. I need a good book, a nice book, something I’m going to enjoy, should go to Barnes&Noble.
try not to screw up sophomore year. I’ve signed up for two APs and will end up taking a whole bunch of tests. I’m trying, trying for a 97 average. Big talker and hopeless dreamer right here, never going to happen, but at least I thought about trying.break at States, break at Villiger. This one I’m actually going for. ‘Break at States’ meaning breaking into the finals at the New York State Forensics Tournament, or Speech and Debate. Villiger is another big tournament. I don’t think I’d make it to Nationals, but I can dream. That aside, I’m going to come back next year with a damn plaque and trophy. I shall, mark my words.stop being a mindless, careless idiot. This won’t ever happen, can’t help it.and oh, yeah, get a boyfriend. I’m a total loser. Heh.
Well, it’s official, summer started. The fact that I’m at home around 11:13, thinking about seeing a movie at 1:30, having only ONE last test to worry about (the physics regents) is a true sign that the seasons are changing. I don’t care what Al Gore says about global warming affecting the weather, summer is summer. It’s here and damnit I want an ice cream.
And I’m still not sure exactly what I want to do with this blog….so…um….wait…XD
I’m apparently….going to blog. About what? I have no idea, my day to day journal? Maybe anime, who knows. lol
6/12/07 – 7/14/07