well the bed i've made for myself is hard and springy and hasn't helped me sleep anybetter. what. the. fuck.
i'm not even pissed at this point. what i am includes a necessary apathy because if i were to feel it in it's true form the little nickname i once had around this house would be more like part of my description on the evening news.
i can, without the slightest hint of dramatism, sincerely say i have reached my limit and then some. i kept giving inch by inch and somehow i have a mile behind me. at what point i can even begin to explain my utter discomfort, is a mystery to me. i am deeply unsettled and to be quite honest, enraged.

night after night i am drug around to see new faces, places, things. did i ask for this? no. i am a mere prop, i think. WHY?! HAH! who needs a reason. blind, selfish thoughtlessness perhaps.
tonight was one of those nights. more than one event to be present for, blah blah blah. one little difference being, the second was for me. (should have just drove myself, alone.) a little less than a week ago, i got news that Buckethead would be in town. dawned on me, he is due for a show in atlanta, it being October and all. anywho, his show just happened to fall on the same night as a certain little someone's boss's housewarming party that for some FUCKING UNGODLY REASON i agreed to tag along for: hi, oh yes, this is Angela! ryan's girlfriend. fiance. everyone's TOOL! we live in the same house together and share a room/life/personal business/space/thoughts/bodily functions/breathing room... oblivious to the idea that when one does not get air, one SUFFOCATES!
yet, the blame falls equally on me. hell, i could easily refuse to go. say no for once. but no. i love him, with any label. call me what you will. call him what you will. my love, the one who holds my heart is all i know him as. so i will do my best to maintain peace.
back to the story....
we finish up with the housewarming party. (THANK GOD THAT SHIT ENDED. one of the most uncomfortable experiences i've ever had.) as i frantically text my passed-life friend, already at the masquerade, to see if Buckethead has gone on yet/there are tickets/where to park/directions... we get gas and head on out....
....on the interstate my phone dies.
.......all will be okay.
jenny's phone begins to die.
i think to myself, maybe these are all signs...
she calls her mother, informs her we will be home around midnight and all will be okay.
.....mere miles from the masquerade, the car DIES.

i say, fine. oh it's OKAY! so what? we wasted a little gas, missed a show. we'll get someone to come get us. put a little oil in the car... tow if need be. buckethead will be back next year and all will be okay!.
oh now, what the hell made me think it would all be that easy.
maybe i was the moron for not knowing, the only people who actually KNEW we were downtown at 10:30pm were she, i and my friends at the masquerade.
she makes the call.
i hear the yelling from the phone.
father is on his way. she hangs up.
the next thing i hear almost sends me over the edge: "we're in big trouble."

WHAT.
....i say WHAT?! THE?! FUCK?!
i am just about fucking through seeing life through everyone elses retarded ass eyes i say it's god damn near time for people to stop their pussy fucking ass whining and take a peek at where the FUCK i'm coming from. i am NOT...... lets throw on our reading glasses on and dust off our brains for this one.... NOT APART OF THIS FAMILY. i DO NOT by any stretch of the imagination relate to one god damn aspect of how this family "WORKS". considering my experiences, this is the closest thing to a functioning family as any other living under one roof. yes. there are problems... but the biggest one here is the manner with which they are dealt. not the problems themselves. i beg to be left out. i do not want to belong. leave me the fuck alone. PLEASE!


somehow i am held equally responsible for tonight. may i remind you i have tasted MY OWN LIFE. i mean, i have lived on my own. been the only one responsible for myself. been blown away by the incredible freedom and welcome solitude that comes with it.
i never signed up to be someone's house cleaner (totally agreeing to clean up after myself, of course). a big sister. a chaperon.
i am young. i have much to learn and i will not force one god damn moment of old, bitter adulthood upon myself. PERIOD.
i AM out to have fun. i am in no hurry to turn into a dried up old alcoholic who has no escape.
i am the poster child for escapism and i do not give a fuck about a thing if it makes me one step closer to THAT.
i was treated like someone's child tonight.
repromanded, like someone's child.
told when it is and isn't appropriate to do something to take the never-ending edge off and have FUN, like someone's... fucking.. child.
it's hitting me like a ton of bricks. and it is not digesting well.

please.
say it.
say those words in my direction and i garuntee that little desired effect.. the tears and plea "please no, let me stay, i'm sorry" will not be my choice words.



don't get me wrong. my head is on leveled and i am very appreciative for any roof over my head. but if it costs me rent to keep my ownership of my own life and time... so fucking be it. don't test me. i'll be gone before the sun comes up. i am my own. broke or not i will do what i want with respects to the boundaries of the law.. one way or another.
i am not attached.
don't fucking underestimate me.