16.12.10

The Christmas Song

Gag me with a spoon.

Oh yeah, and hello, good evening.
Welcome to a blog post of teen angst and misplaced feelings.

But really, let's just get it over with.
Time for the self-hatred.
I'm feeling like a lazy, stupid, polluting, ridiculous, nasty, selfish, pessimistic, snarky, fat, totally American failure.
I feel so utterly American at this moment.
And I hate what it's come to mean.
We're the most over-medicated, polluting, stupid, ignorant, hypocritical nation I can think of right now.
And I don't really like that.

I feel like hating on everything right now.
Yes, I'd very much like to spend my Christmas break alone with pencil and paper and guitar and sleep.
Restful sleep.
Not this fitful, restless crap I've been getting all week.
I might just have to find some cold medicine and knock myself out tonight.
I just want to hit the pillow and be out.

I'd like to stop worrying about all the people I know and all the crap they do
And I'd really like to just give a nice 'fuck you' to institutions everywhere.
Yes, indeed.
I'm feeling vitriolic and cynical.
And boy, does it feel awful.

I was just smacked in the face with a baseball bat named "realization!"
And suddenly it all came into pessimistic focus, and my day was ruined.
And I feel like the weekend and possibly all of break will have a big dark raincloud hovering above them
Waiting just rain on my freaking parade.

I'm bitterly upset over nothing.
Nothing at all.
I was just hit with reality
And that's nothing to get upset over.
It's just how my life decided to go today.
Really, I can blame only fate and myself.
But who believes in fate anyway?

I'd like to know what gives!?
Why did I suddenly snap back into
"Oh geez, well, I've got homework and everyone else has a life and blah. Blah. Blah."

And as I stormed off to the car today
I had to listen to my mother complain all the way.
She's loud, too.
Complaining nonstop about all the people at work that she hates
And how nobody does anything and she always has to be the hero,
And the stories in which she repeats everything somebody said- those are just.
I feign attentiveness.
I really don't care.
And then I have to listen to her tell the story again, twice, actually,
To my father and my grandmother.
All over the phone.
All loud.
I'd really hate to see my mother at work.
She seems much too vindictive and, here's the kicker,
Bitchy.
(Yes, I went there.)

Sorry, but I can only take so much.
And I've said probably a total of four sentences since I came home.
It's been one of those days.

It can't be anywhere near Christmas, can it?
Oh, wait.
It is.
Surely doesn't feel that way.
And I'm looking at break as a time to get homework done.
What the hell have I come to?
Homework over a two week "break"
School is the primary function of my life.
Not breathing.
School.
I live it, breathe it, and even have dreams about it.
How sick.
So break, as of now, equals work.
I am sick of being busy.
Sick of doing work that doesn't help me.
SICK of all the assignments dragging me down to the ground and beating with a huge rock.
School is nightmare-ish sometimes.
It really sucks to be a 'good student'.
I'd rather be a bad one.
But I haven't a shred of rebellion in my body.

The most I can do is come to the blog and rant at you through a computer screen.
My words have no power.
They never have.
Probably never will.
I don't care.
At least I'm not mute.

And among the various realizations was the ever-recurring "why do I bother with this crush-thing?"
I realize again and again that it's so stupid to like him.
Why do I even care?
I truly shouldn't.
But I see him and it's that stupidly teenage little heart-melt thing.
God, I hate sappy sentimentality.
He's cute and smart and I like how he thinks, and he's utterly lovely.
Part of me hopes he's actually a real douchebag.
Wouldn't that make things easier?
Yes.
Yes it would.
But so far as I know, he isn't.
He's just cute.
I will be forever falling for the wrong guys.
It's something like destiny.

So I've rant-rant-ranted away at you people,
You poor people that are probably thinking "this is such teenage trash!"
Well, you're right.
2 points for you.

Adieu.

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