I'm hanging in there.
These past few days, I've been haunted by memories and thoughts about other people, movies and books that I've met, read and watched before. I consider it a miracle that I'm still alive and kicking today.
See, some people have the tendency to judge the children of single parents. They either grow up really rebellious, get pregnant, drop out of high school really early, do drugs or anything bad, really. Seems like these children of single parents could do no good other than bad. Why the judgment? Maybe it's your own fault that those children/teenagers only go bad because you expect them to be.
Since I'm a child of a single parent, I consider, as I said above that it's a miracle that I'm still alive(somehow) and kicking still.
I wake up in the mornings or rather, afternoons, thinking what the hell am I still doing and going to do later? Only to start back at the beginning, what to do with my hair later? I probably spend an average of 5 hours a day worrying about this and worrying about that and after all that worrying, I can still worry about whether does the worry show on my face. -_________-
FML
I'm tired of putting a fake facade to the world. I just feel like hiding at home and not come out. And when it does come to that, I'm sick of being at home because of all the problems at home and I end up going out and when I'm out, I just wanna be home.
Maybe I should do that pathetic thing of checking into a fancy hotel suite, order room service, and then while I'm sipping champagne or whatever in the bathtub with all the bubbles around, take a straight razor blade and slice my wrists and let the blood seep through all the bubbles. Create a freaky scene. And of course, the hotel will lose some profit. And when I finish thinking about all of these, I end up worrying about who would be asked to foot my bill in that fancy hotel suite. See?
Ah. Fuck all that crap. I'm probably wallowing in self-pity.
*editted*
I just had to add this one last part. Why and what the hell is my point for posting this post up?
See, some people have the tendency to judge the children of single parents. They either grow up really rebellious, get pregnant, drop out of high school really early, do drugs or anything bad, really. Seems like these children of single parents could do no good other than bad. Why the judgment? Maybe it's your own fault that those children/teenagers only go bad because you expect them to be.
Since I'm a child of a single parent, I consider, as I said above that it's a miracle that I'm still alive(somehow) and kicking still.
#1 milestone
* 16 years old*
* 16 years old*
- I made it through high school and finished it.
Some of the people I met after moving to Sri Damansara dropped out of high school when they were in Form4.
I had thought about it before but I'm rather glad I persevered through it all and made it.
Some of the people I met after moving to Sri Damansara dropped out of high school when they were in Form4.
I had thought about it before but I'm rather glad I persevered through it all and made it.
#2 milestone
* 21 years old*
* 21 years old*
- I do hope that I'm still alive when I'm 21.
I'm struggling.
I still am.
I'm struggling.
I still am.
I wake up in the mornings or rather, afternoons, thinking what the hell am I still doing and going to do later? Only to start back at the beginning, what to do with my hair later? I probably spend an average of 5 hours a day worrying about this and worrying about that and after all that worrying, I can still worry about whether does the worry show on my face. -_________-
FML
I'm tired of putting a fake facade to the world. I just feel like hiding at home and not come out. And when it does come to that, I'm sick of being at home because of all the problems at home and I end up going out and when I'm out, I just wanna be home.
Maybe I should do that pathetic thing of checking into a fancy hotel suite, order room service, and then while I'm sipping champagne or whatever in the bathtub with all the bubbles around, take a straight razor blade and slice my wrists and let the blood seep through all the bubbles. Create a freaky scene. And of course, the hotel will lose some profit. And when I finish thinking about all of these, I end up worrying about who would be asked to foot my bill in that fancy hotel suite. See?
Fucking indecisive and fucking fickle-minded.
Ah. Fuck all that crap. I'm probably wallowing in self-pity.
*editted*
I just had to add this one last part. Why and what the hell is my point for posting this post up?
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