I find myself writing when I can’t find my voice. When there is so much inside of my mind but it bottles up at the back of my throat and won’t leave my mouth in an orderly fashion. When everything is so wrong, that I feel like that stupid cat picture where he’s literally hanging at the end of a rope. meow.
I am trying so hard and I feel so passionate about school, but I feel like it doesn’t matter. I will never be able to have a career that will take me to the full potential. I’m not even given that option. It’s off of the table. Hooray for a long safe life of mediocrity!
And the wedding. Oh dear lord, my wedding. I fear that already the people in my life who have a tendency to suck the fun out of things are already at work. My mother is basically trying to make up for the wedding she never had. Well, fortunately for me, my father is paying for everything but the flowers/decorations (that’s mom’s part since she is a florist after all). But it’s not me, it’s all so wrong. It’s almost like she doesn’t really know who I am. I mean, I am reserved, I keep a lot of myself locked away. But, damn. Crystals? Really? And I swear to God, if her retarded-ass boss doesn’t figure out how to listen, I will shove his cell phone so far up his ass he will hear me from inside of his head.
