i end up doing stupid things and staying up too late. drinking when i shouldn't and slacking when i know better. make no mistake, i am not depressed. no, i think i am finally done with those days. i have hormonal days but for the most part i think my adolescence is faded into a thing of the past. leaving me to question, "now what?"
i have nothing really to be passionate about. nothing that will prove worthy, anyway. any reaction i anticipate flickers away because no one thought to notice. no one caught on. withered flames are the saddest thing, i think. yet, where once the death of passion would give birth to frantic anxiety and furthermore passion within itself, i am calm. i wait patiently. like a wise, once-wild, caged animal. i know what should be expected ...and how ineffective my existence is.
anywho....

i am entering familiar territory and holy fuck passion doesn't begin to describe how excited i am to just become completely devoured by it. don't fucking judge me. i don't care what who thinks. so solitude becomes me because i will not explain myself to anyone and they would not understand if i tried. they would not agree. they would become the enemy. i'd rather reserve that position for myself than my confidants. i'd rather have them preserved as distant friends than resent them.
yeah, i'm fucked. it'll be okay.

so, i am short one sister because i cannot even BEGIN to tell you how ...just.... BLAH!!! i am about the whole situation. as a person who aspires to be as needless as possible, a pathetically dependent individual is extremely undesirable & just plain annoying. i won't be there for the birth. i won't be there period until she can learn to be a fucking woman. a mother. a decent god damn human.

and that's all i have to say.
goodnight world. see you in the morning.
don't let me forget....