This is the start of my highly probable endless rants that i’m going to be posting, hopefully, whenever I have wifi.
so… heres a rant that started off as lines that were scratched, made to look like words on my legs and scratches that were made to look like numbers on my arms. no. i don’t regret it. I feel pretty goddamn awesome because I didn’t cry a single fucking tear and that’s all there is to it. believe me or not, I smiled through that whole thing, and that’s the thing you just have to smile. no matter how fucking terrible, and mangled up you feel on the inside. don’t show that pain. fight that pain. smile. fight it. take the pain. ignite it. needless to say, I felt much better afterwards because they finally left me alone and I could try to get my thoughts comprehendible.
I kept on scribbling for a long time on my skin until I decided to break out my green moleskin Oxi; rant and write poetry and get my shit together. That’s all I have to do. Get. My. Shit. Together. After sitting in the dark for a while. They started knocking on the door, threatening to throw me out. I opened the door. Smiled. Asked for at least thirty minutes of peace and begged that they wouldn’t lock me out this time. It would be cold. I don’t have the strength to keep myself warm and awake. They told me to watch my attitude and warned me that if I got sick again, they wouldn’t bring me to a doctor. Then they said that they’d help me if I didn’t want to be alive anymore. They told me I was a waste of money, time, and space. That “why did we have to get stuck with a daughter like you, when there are millions of other girls who are better than you. you’re nothing. you own nothing. you are nothing. “ I said thanks. They walked away. I sat back down. and closed the door to the bathroom.
That. That happens every single fucking day. Every day. I pray for a day where that doesn’t happen. It’s nonstop me getting blamed, framed, yeah my “siblings” decided it’d be funny to take money from my mother and blame it on me, they believe my siblings, shoved, hit, and yelled at all the time. I try really hard to just brush it off. haha. no biggie. Yaknow. it’s just the norm. Nothing special here. not at all. That bitter sort of reflection on life and everyday basically. I am nothing. That’s what they drilled into my head. My shoulder just got better after a trip to the ER cuz I got tackled down and in that process a glass cup broke and cut my right shoulder and top part of my arm. they blamed it on self harm. like the fuck that happened. fuck no. how the fuck would I even be able to reach. yet the staff believed every single word. I am nothing. through and through im learning to be independent. I guess. im not sure. I mean. I don’t really tell anyone the whole story anymore. not a single soul. I would tell them, the ones I trust with my life, at most the half. and that’s it. because the full story would just be a big sob story and no one fucking likes sob stories. I don’t but im living one. and I hate it. I fucking hate it so much. I wish I could save myself. because no one can fucking save me. there are no fucking superheroes in this fucking messed up world anymore. chivalry is dead. fucked up moms. fucked up dads. fucked up kid. with a fucked up knife. I just get so fucking frustrated sometimes. most of the time. and I just can’t figure out why. why did I have to do this. why am I stuck with this. what have I done wrong? is there something wrong with me. im so sorry. why cant you love me. is there something wrong with me? im sorry that im not what you wanted. Im sorry that I am nothing . I am so sorry that I cant be what you expected me to be. im sorry I let you down. im so sorry for everything that ive ever done to you. what have I exactly ever done to you? can you please tell me what I have done wrong and how I can fix this? can you please just tell me that you are sorry for hurting me? I never wanted to let you down but nothing I do is right . tell me why please just tell me what have I done wrong. im so sorry. im so sorry. im so sorry.
and that’s it right there. is it really my fault? am I the cause of all these problems? after getting beaten down so many times. yes. yes. I am. I am the cause of all these problems and all this hurt. pain. all these burdens to bear. im just another weight. im nothing.
I love so many people who don’t love me back and it’s never ever going to change because I’ve lost them and there is no going back. I lost pieces of my real family. and I am stuck. there is no escape because I can’t fucking beg anyone to fucking be my escape anymore. I don’t. writing is my escapism. and maybe just maybe. I finally wrote something that actually made sense for once.
^ that my was my rant. and after that whole thing. I sat trembling just repeating the same thought in my head “Don’t give up now. Don’t give up now. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight. Fight.” So here I am. I have to fight. But I am drowning. I am dark blue.