Tree House

Wow...

I just rather to bleed, sometimes, the only way to calm myself, is to think about trickling blood, out of the neck.

Creepy, of course, but that's my personal life meaning.

I want to be one of the two most embarrassing parents, me and my husband/mail-order-slave/pillow/wife.

You know I want to know, what's about Syria, it's only 5 hours in car, 5 minutes around people with guns, and 5 seconds to live after it.

But what's the police, like, who is the animal who is joining an army that murdering daily everybody.

The funniest part, it's probably that other countries threat to use unconventional weapons (gas bombs), it's funny because they already use that to fucking kill each other.

So dear threatens, what's the point to threat doing something when they do it already fine, it's like threatening that you'll kill a dead body, it's the fucking exact same thing.

I thought about joining into orphan house, every now and then, but it's such an insult to go live with people that actually don't have parents and dying to have ones, when I just want to kill them.

This is what called First World Problems.

I just need a place to live in, too big amount of children in small place, living together, some mental illnesses (including fucking everything) getaway, each one is having a job or have another way to make money or help the place (gardening for food -or drugs-, fixing everything, building awesome things).

It sounds beautiful.

But it only happens in dreams, novels, and nice movies that you'd probably see in the theater next to my house that Never have decent movies.

So, imagine one day I'll be able to open one.

Just start one, it's like a college dorm, just made for the fucked-up ones.

If I'd try hard enough, do you think I'll be able to do it?

Just find people, find a place, like on Step Up 3, or 4, and alike (I just fucking hate the feeling after some movies, like "I can do it, it's so fucking awesome! When I'll grow up I want to be a dancer" and then I remember that I really hate to dance), but building a place to stay in...

It's beautiful.

I want to make one, will have some apartment in the middle of nowhere, or we'll just use some wood we'll cut or get, and build it in the woods.

We'll sew our own clothes and buy some from second hand stores or alike.

We'll keep a garden with veggies and fruits, and get some from public places.

We'll be weird, and sometimes drunk, or highed, or starving, but we'll do it together.

I just want to fucking get out of here.

So sad that there are never enough mentally ill children in your area...

Or so good?

Depends on the current situation.

You know, it's possible to do it.

It might come out good.

The builders of the known Hobbit House, it's actually quite good idea.

But I won't leave house when I'm twelve.

The least is sixteen, when I'll be able to get a job.

Wow, seriously sorry I've got born.

My mother pretty much hates me.

I just did it again.

It's only two, back there, it could be 13 by this time of the day.

I'd rather to build the weird shelter as soon as possible.

Just stay in it as long as possible.

You know, childhood in Israel is different, when you finish high school, you must go and be a part in the army, then, after 3 years of it, you will probably go to college/university/something like that, and then build a career, marry, and have children, that will have the exact same routine.

It's not asking for a change, it's screaming for one.

I want to break free.

I just feel stuck.

I want to re-build the abandoned tree houses, somewhere in my city there are few, so, remaking it sounds great.

I can ask my friend to help me.

Just to put wood again, and from there, it's easy.

Put few sheets and fill them with shredded things, like paper or bottles.

Hang lights, LED lights, and stuff.

I just want to stay away from people.

Maybe I'll be able to do it, but I'm just too shy...

You know what's weird?

I can't see myself in ten years.

I'd probably die, maybe got shot, maybe got hit by a car, who knows...

Okay, after and meanwhile the holiday meal (I have no idea how to call it), my mother was mad about me, telling me that I'm so loud (talking so much), and annoying and that sometimes she wants to fucking hit me.

And the best part, it's that after all of it she wonders why am I so suicidal, gee I wonder why...

She also wonders why I hate so much to be with her, and why am I so cold to her.

Don't you think, mother, that I tried?!

It's enough to handle the B.A. people in my school (B.A.D. or bad, is the shortcut for the common disorder of Bipolar Amnesia), but in home, from my mother, well, you can shoot me, then heal me, then shoot me again at the exact same spot, and then heal me all over again.

Sweethearts, have you remembered that thing that just makes me to HATE to perform in front of people (especially adults), like art and stuff, so music is included.

I hate to play the guitar, I hate when they hear me.

I don't want judging from any kind.

If it's for good or for bad, I want privacy.

I don't have any, sadly.

I'm not allowed to close the door in my own room, I'm not allowed to stay for long in my bed on day time.

You can just destroy my room and tell me to live in the living room.

By the way destroying rooms!

Do you remember the amazing fact of that my parents are renovating the apartment?

It starting soon...

For the room renovating, they'll have to dismantle the bed, it's a perfect opportunity to tell them to take off the long legs, just make it a floor bed.

I want to make the "I'd really like to shoot myself repeatedly in the head now" feeling.

I don't know if it's because the silence.

I don't know if it's because the emotional abusing mother (I don't know if I can use this term).

I don't know if it's because I got left alone.

I don't know if it's because I'm new to this school.

I don't know if it's because the roller coaster that I can't figure out where is it going.

I don't know if it's all those signs telling something, and the next one is denying the other.

I don't know if it's something else.

I don't know if it's a combination of all of them.

I just know that I hate the lack of noise in the class, I can't concentrate in the cemetery silence, I want to hear yelling, screaming, cheering, laughing, crying, I miss them.

I just know that I'm not enjoying at all form the company of my mother, I want to shoot my head after 5 seconds after I'm next to her, because she always have rude comments.

I just know that all of my friends, aren't really my friends, they rather popularity, not support.

I just know that I'm getting lost, that I'm losing myself, that I hate the people, that I just want to go away.

I just know that when I think I know what's about to happen, it's all crashing, vanishing, and I got to start all over.

I just know that I feel nauseous when I hear her, and when I have eye contact with him I feel weird, or when I see her sitting alone I'm confused, shall I be happy or sad?

You know, when I'm really sad, but really really sad, I start to hear Fix You of Coldplay, and if it's worse, I might hear Born To Die of  Lana Del Rey, and even The Big Bang of Rock Mafia.

And that's only because of her, the girl who changed, and left me.

And because of him, I might find myself hearing Don't You Worry Child of Swedish House Mafia, or start playing with Icon Pop Song.

I guess things that I'm bad at or just can't do, express me better than everything.

Music is the main.

The most musical thing I ever wrote is the song I was forced to write.

Dogs stink,

Gorillas too,

Cat's don't,

I like stairs.

And I played on fucking plastic tubes organized by the note they have.

Or with Glockenspiel (it's a xylophone from metal).

It's weird.

Pop songs are depressing me (I might be one of the only people who actually getting depressed from the songs, and not what they talk about, or the video of it).

I write poems that should be flushed in the toilet with all the other unnecessary things that people make.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

If you had the guts to talk to him, you would.

So, why are you torturing yourself everyday?

Watching her talking to him, smiling, and he smiling back.

Watching her talking to them, she's smiling, and they admire her.

Why do you like to watch people who hate you?

Why won't you just kill yourself and that's it, it would hurt less, you know...

Even one of my plenty of selves hate me.

Wow, a brother war in me.

Well, since I wrote that about 2 hours or so past.

In those two hours (or so) I watched World War Z.

Many people said that it's showing that the Jewish people are great, Israel is great, and other bullshit.

What I've learned from the movie:

• If there's a zombie apocalypse, stay away from every cheery human, they'll sing so happily because they're saved, and the noise will almost kill them again.
• If you want to drink something in the end of the world for humanity, drink Pepsi, it will save the world.
• Never call to your husband when he's in Korea, the people from Gangnam will go Psy-chotic (I had to do it!)

 So the most that they've done including Israel, is that scene in Jerusalem, and the people who scream things in Hebrew (fuck yeah, the awesome feeling when you hear your language in a movie, it happened also in the Dictator), and we fucking died because we were happy.

It's our typical reaction, when we survive, we sing.

After every landing (when the airplane touches the ground, not when they let us go), in an El Al plane, you'll hear us singing.

It's like a ritual, after every flight, landing back to the Holy Land (there are girl who dress less than Miley Cyrus, and twerk more than everything else in the world combined, it's not that holy), you must sing.

Today I switched by myself my E string (the highest one, the 6th one, however you call it).

To be honest, I had no idea what I'm doing, I just did what looked like the rest.

At least now I can play music, not 5/6 parts of music.

And today I made sushi (when you say sushi, I naturally say Sasha and sashimi, it's a cheer I made for Sasha that died in 2012, the movie), I put some ginger and onion, and cucumber, rolled in a Nori, with some sticky rice.

You know, next time, I'll buy even more rice, because I need some because we got many Noris that we need to use, and so I'll make the cool rice ice cream!

You know, the last thing you want to do after watching a scary movie, is to make noises, hear noises, be alone (anything is considered alone as long as you don't have somebody in radius of one meter from you), and to be in the dark.

Meaning, going to pee, isn't so fun.

You know what I hate?

Young people, who look very old.

Seriously, it happens in drama movies all the time, they look like they died 1000 years ago.

You know what's funny?

That I really think that this time nobody will discover that I harm myself.

Of course they'll notice!

My hips are huge.

But nobody and nothing will block my way from chocolate.

I must visit Newfoundland.

Why?

It's for my tour where I'd meet people who made life such an awesome place.

This guy is a dog, it named -it's real- Captain Dildo.

And I need to visit a Mexican woman that divorced from a guy named Andy in New Orleans, since she was pissed off from the fact they broke up, she payed him, all of the things she needed, in change, in coins, and with beans (it's a nickname for Mexicans as I know), and high five her.

And just for you to know, I think that Captain Dildo (from Dildo, Newfoundland), Batdog (from Texts From Dog), Iron-dog (the rival of Batdog), should unite, and be like the legendary dogs in Pokemon.

Ii should be the awesome sidekick of Bessie, since she's the Mighty Bee, it's seems to be fair that the girl named Honey, should help her.

And if you insist she's just a cartoon, I'll be the sidekick of Honey Boo Boo.

So it's late, and I like ice cream for breakfast.

I just loved the collage, a girl put few pictures of those things like "collarbones or sweets" and "hipbones or that cake", below them she put a picture of herself, surrounded with packages of unhealthy treats, with middle finger, to the whole world to see.

She's in my tour too.

I have only two completed cities, Tokyo, and New Orleans, to meet the two guys that fucking wiped their asses on a hello kitty pillow of their friend, and the ex wife  "BEAN".

Berries, Survivors,

I hope you'll make it.