*violent language*
AHHHHHHHH I WANT TO DEBOWL HER AND STRING HER FROM A TREE BY HER INTESTINES!!!!!!!!!
*/violent language*
*now just fowl language*
Okay, so satan sent me these last few days as a free brochure for what my afterlife in hell will be like.
First off, I will lose an envelope full of my savings. Where I will lose it and how will be a complete mind scorching mystery. But the fucking envelope will vanish like a fart in the wind and you shall have nothing.
And my mom was so MEAN about it! Yes, I feel like a complete dumbass for losing my money, it sure does suck to be me right about now, and I sure did get what I desserved... so would my mother please do me a favor and turn around and crawl OUT of my asshole? It really pissed me off.......... ARRRRR!!!! She kind of smiles teasingly and says "I won't say anything at the fear of sounding insesitive" and then smirks and walks away.
Poo on her, she's a whorish fiend.
What really got my blood cooking at 360* was when she came upstairs (a place she seldom ventures, and when she ventures there, the outcome is seldom pleasant) and proceeded to... ahem... "help me look" for the envelope.
Her meanness was so pointless! She kept critisizing the general dissoray I choose to live in- clothes on the floor, sewing stuff strewed around somewhat haphazardly...
I didn't care much, I know I'm messy and it doesn't bother me... but then she started getting really cruel and cutting saying how disgusted she was and stuff.
She said "I'm going to get you new furniture."
I said "I don't want new furniture."
Too bad.
and then repeating several times
HER PLANS TO TURN MY ROOM INTO HER SHINY NEW OFFICE AS SOON AS I LEAVE FOR COLLEGE IN SEPTEMBER.
Wow. Thanks mom.
We just got a new carpet- which she almost shat a brick on when she saw- GASP- woodchips on it from an empty hampster cage. I saw her feathers stand on edge and she squaked "What is that? On my new carpet? Take it down stairs right now!" "I want to look for my money, can I do it later?" "No, now! And get the dust buster up here! SQUAK!" So I did as her fowlness commanded the whole time steaming with this boiling resentment that I kept secret because THAT'S JUST WHAT I'M TRAINED TO DO AND FUCK HER.
So she bitched on and on about the carpet, a piggish sort of gleam came into her eyes and she told me about the wonderful things she had in store for the upstairs- evacuating all my steaming piles of shit (you know, personal belongings collected over a span of 18 years of living in a space, that kind of useless steaming shit) and paining over all my walls with the stupid ugly fairies I painted when I was like twelve on them- yes, they are ugly hideous fairies and mermaids, but for the love of god, can you leave them alone? They are mine?
I guess I felt so violated by the whole event.
Like, after this year, I have no home in my home.
Hey, we'll have another office though! Woohoo!
She's like inflicting me with THINGS. I don't want new shit, I don't need new wallpaper in the bathroom, I don't need new furniture or for her to help me throw out all my books...I want the old shitty stuff, the stuff I've had forever and I want it to be MINE. I'm in my terrible twos again!!! See? MINEMINEMINE!!!! ALL MINE!!!! NO SHARE!!!! NO!!!!
Uh, but anyway, I'm pissed at my mother. Bet you don't know any other teenaged girls who are pissed at their mothers, huh?
Writing this made me feel a little better.
My boyfriend keeps telling me I should say "fuck you" to my mom because it's liberating in this gorgeous way I will never comprehend unless I do it. The words were on the tip of my tongue, I might have even mouthed them or breathed them out if I felt extra brave. But part of me still believes that saying "fuck you, mom" is not a good idea... it will just open up a whole other heap of mess....
Whatever, thanks for reading the rant.
And no SI!!! WOOHOO!!! It's because FUCK HER, I DON"T CARE ENOUGH ABOUT HER BITCHING MENAPAUSING WAYS TO EVEN CONSIDER SI!!! HAH! SHe can't control me, lalalalalalaal!!!!!!!!!
Sorry, I'm going a little bit crazy. It happens.
Hope it's okay if I rant a bit about my dear mother...
Hope it's okay if I rant a bit about my dear mother...
You're like milk
in water: I cannot tell
what comes before,
what after,
which is the master,
which is the slave;
what's big,
what's small.
O lord white as jasmine
if an ant should love you
and praise you,
will he not grow
to demon powers?
-Mahadeviyakka
in water: I cannot tell
what comes before,
what after,
which is the master,
which is the slave;
what's big,
what's small.
O lord white as jasmine
if an ant should love you
and praise you,
will he not grow
to demon powers?
-Mahadeviyakka
- fire.bird
- growing roots
- Posts: 764
- Joined: Sat Dec 13, 2003 1:25 pm
- Location: hey babe, the sky's on fire...
you know, there might really be something to that. i read somewhere once about this theory that human development exists in seven years cycles, and that we repeat those cycles our whole lives. so that the same traits that are exhibited in ages 1-7 are exhibited in different forms in each corresponding year thereafter. which would make the teenage terrible twos about age 16-17.chiam wrote:I'm in my terrible twos again!!! See? MINEMINEMINE!!!! ALL MINE!!!! NO SHARE!!!! NO!!!!
sorry about the savings -- that really sucks. and sorry about your mother. it's probably no consolation at all right now, but my mother and i literally did not speak once for at least a month of the summer before i left for college. and when i got to college, i was quite happily reveling in freedom from her, and didn't call my parents for months on end. but slowly, over the course of my college career, they started to get a lot less crazy. (that's my interpretation and i'm sticking to it, dammit!!) and we get along really well now. i'm actually going to voluntarily have lunch with her in about 20 minutes, and am probably going to really enjoy it.
even now, though, i have to say -- she can still piss me off faster than anyone on the face of the planet. it's rare, now, but it still happens. (and reminds me why it's a good thing that i don't live with her anymore.)
and i have to say ... i think your instincts are probably pretty accurate about not telling her to fuck off. i tried that, right before graduation -- finally got so damn wound up and fed up that i exploded, for pretty much the first time ever. it was a bad idea for me. i should have stuck to the passive-aggressive silent defiance that had served me so well with her throughout high school... <sigh>.
anyway. rant on. feels good, don't it?
~b
i feel the sun on my back
i smell the earth in my skin
i see the sky above me like a full recovery
i smell the earth in my skin
i see the sky above me like a full recovery
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