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This is my short little rant. I feel really bitchy for writing this, as it is only my third post.
Okay.
Five days a week, I get up at six a.m., go to school and work my ass off. At five p.m, I leave school, change out of my uniform (khaki's and a polo) and start on my homework. At around seven, I leave my room, come down stairs, and grab a banana for dinner. Then I retreat to my room and start studying, finishing at eight or nine. When i finally finish, I get bitched at for not doing the laundry (my stepmoms, my fathers, and my own) Not doing the dishes, not cleaning the house. None of this is my fucking fault! It's not even my problem! Both my father and stepmother are retired. It's not like they don't have any free time. But apparently they're sacrificing their lives for me.
I'm sorry, but I do not think it's sacrificing anything to drive me to school at 7:30. That's all they have to do, they don't even support me! My father DOES pay for my schooling, and it is pretty expensive, but he's fucking rich, so it doesn't even matter. If I want anything (clothes, books, hairbrush, toothepaste) I have to go out, get hired by someone, and work, therefor taking over my entire weekend. Wow, fun. I'm thirteen for goddess' sake!
This shouldn't really bother me, i know, but I have an extremely quick temper. Not very good. Not to mention (although I guess I am) the fact that NO ONE in my school is a goth, or even a punk.
People bitch and complain about ONLY having 11 goths at their school.
Well guess what? I have NONE!
My stepmother, Lisa, is a morning bird. At five-thirty every morning, she gets up, and sings as loud as possible. She sings about her dog. For some reason, Lisa is completely jealous of me. She hates it when hates it when I even talks to him. To get his attention, she makes a comment about me being fat. I AM NOT FAT! I have a fucking 27 inch waist, and I am 5'7". That is not fat. She'll give me diet tips (she and my dad are obese)
Then my dad can't seem to decide whether or not he loves me or hates me. One minute he'll tell me that he's so proud of me, and then he'll say he hates me, I was a mistake, and I should kill myself. Everyone I know claims my "gothyness" is just a faze. A thirteen-year long faze. I've ALWAYS loved the dark, ALWAYS! Damn....
I'm going to shutup now. I realize that this isn't really worth a rant, but I've had to get this off my chest for a year. Well, if you've actually taken time to read this, thank you.
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