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I have family issues. When I was little my father would leave for long periods of time without even warning me before hand and my mother was in and out of a mental ward. So because of those two things I was convinced that no one really loved me and that there was something wring with me. When they were around they payed attention to me and pretended that they loved me, but in the end they would leave.



I got fucked for the first time when I was really young, too young to give my knowing consent (meaning rape). And then she left me... Nice, huh? So for me there will be none of that; waiting for mr. or ms. right for me. That's all romantic twaddle as far as I'm conerned anyways.



::sighs:: BUT ANYWHO: Then my little brother was born. I didn't really know what to think of that other than; "When did my parents find the time to have sex?" ... Apparently that's not a question that a six year old should have been asking. But I don't know...



Anyways, I've sort of dumped this all out in a very short bit in the foolish, misguided hope that it would help me feel better... Well I'm not done yet so there's still hope.



My friends... I love them all. I really do. Without them I'd probably have commited suicide by now (morbid nien?). I love them but the things that I've mentioned above. Of not feeling loved, of being raped, even of being suicidal. These are not things that they can understand. They know that I'm cold towards the majority of my relatives and they know that showing emotion is not easy for me. They also know that I don't like too much physical contact. But they don't know why. But regardless of all that, I love them. And yet, when they speak of their childhood in a negative way and when they talk of the mess that their minds are in I'm so tempted to ask "why?", "what happened to you that was so fuckin' awful?". That's insensitive, I know but it just doesn't add up.



I love them and they know it. But they also know that I'm like a broken doll, but I'll be damned if they ever understand why. I don't want them to have felt the way I have, they don't deserve that... Nobody does.

Frustrastion is coming off me in waves right now. Why do other people think they always know best?!? I think that I know myself better than all these nameless fucks that think they know how to do right by me. If they actually *knew* me they would know how fuckin' angry it's making me and stop... But no! They're too damn dumb for that.



To top it all off I have had no life all week. I have been trapped in the school for atleast two extra hours every fuckin' day to practice for the Carmina Bruna. Last night was our first performance of it... We didn't exactly suck, we just weren't great either. Everyone was other tired and just wanted to go home, so all the minor mistakes just sort of pilled up. Tonight I have another one... But it will be the last time. After this I can go and set all the sheet music on fire! Burn Baby Burn!