%^@$*&#?!,.

First meal as a 20-year-old? Rice Krispies cereal and chocolate. Now all I need is the vodka and I’m off to a good year.

Writing about how I feel is so easy. Reading about how I feel is almost destructive. Somewhere along the way, suppressed memories and neglected issues sneak their way into my paragraphs. I never really know how any piece of writing will turn out but I often end up with a handful of sleepless nights.

People ask me why I still live at home. Sometimes they wonder because they’ve heard about the verbal abuse and rare moments of physical abuse. Sometimes they wonder because they’ve heard me complaining. Sometimes they just think it’s pathetic that I’m out of high school and still at home. So I’m going to try to explain this.

First of all, I’m 19. Since when was living at home at such a young age deemed pathetic? You act like you’re better than me because you’ve got your own apartment or dorm. You want to know what’s pathetic? The fact that you’re not even paying for your housing. Nope, mommy and daddy are. So you’re basically flaunting the fact that you’re a self-righteous spoiled brat. Now that’s fucking pathetic.

Secondly, I do hear you when you say that the environment I’m living in is bad. I am, after all, the one experiencing it. And I do understand that you think I’m stupid for staying. The thing is, when I leave, I want to leave for good. I’ve seen person after person move out with their almost naive optimism only to move back a few years or months later. I can’t do that in my situation. To me, dealing with all this for a little longer is better than moving out and having to come back to a more arrogant home. I’m saving and working to ensure that I’ll be safe in the future for the rest of my future.

Finally, yes, I do utter the rare complaint but did I ever ask to hear about your dry spell or how your ass feels like it’s “being attacked by a hundred long-nailed midgets”? No. I’m pretty sure no one ever did. Everyone has their own problems and not everyone can bottle up their issues. If you can say whatever you want then I’m entitled to do so as well.

Furthermore, I choose how I’m going to live my life and that is one right that I will defend until I die. You’re also allowed to do the same so take this any way you want it. Just don’t expect me to give a shit.

I want to be better. I just want to be better. My birthday is on Saturday. I’m turning 20. I want to shed these teen years away and just get on with it. I want to stop sitting still.

This past year, I scared myself out of doing so many things. I said goodbye to dreams and ambitions. I welcomed restrictions and fear. And what happened? I shrank. I became insignificant, even to myself.

How can I explain it? This yearning. This intense feeling of hunger twisting and turning and pulling at my insides. You can see it from every angle of my body. The need to stretch, the desire to feel alive again.

This year, I just want to be better. Please.

My hair twists and my bones turn and I find myself wondering. Could I leave everything behind? Could I leave all of you? My skins creaks and my tongue quivers and I know. There aren’t many of you left to abandon.

Hahahaa I hadn’t noticed your Tumblr picture. It’s awesome! XD
Thanks :D There’s a bigger version here if you feel like being scared.

where are you from?
The land of poutines, hockey, and beer, eh.

http://www.formspring.com/forms/?751300-7UNhyUotMd