I'm going to school today, sadly.
I just feel like nothing will matter, I'm basically torn and lifting the weight of my parents decision.
Whether I'd cut or anything, be sent back to that horrendous [but freakishly good] place, and my parents would lose their legal guardianship over me, or just suffer silently and miserably.
If only being a runaway were an option.
But where to?
I got all these "wonderful" places surrounding my land, and ISIS is getting closer.
The only escape is overseas.
Sadly, I have nowhere to actually go, at most, I can pretend that I'm a Palestinian but I'm so opposed to the idea that I'd rather suffer silently...
Oh! I can say that I was kidnapped to be a bride for some fucker in Yemen.
Oh, well, today was okay-ish.
I guess I'm saying that it was okay because it's the main word I use to describe how things were or how I'm doing.
I suffered, and I drew most of the time, uninspired, uninterested, just to waste time.
I got better as I got closer to the end of the day, I usually feel happier when things are over, maybe it's something with leaving [Paper Towns].
But then I got home, forced to go out at around four, going with my brother to his football practises, because I'm unallowed to stay at a place without adult supervision.
Outrageous, I know.
I walked, brisk pace, and my mother yelled on me for not going faster.
I walked at their speed, just a meter or two behind them, and she yelled at me endlessly.
I yelled at her back "Stop yelling at me! You're yelling at me all the time!" and after we got finally home, she told my father that I misbehaved.
I was astonished.
What the hell is going on in this place?
I want to die, but I can't just do it.
I just need the option, allowing me to be in peace.
Well, today, when I ran, well, before, Irene talked to me, telling me to not worry, because Sharon [our guidance counsellor] called her.
It's always amusing how my words manage to be messaged differently.
I'm not worried that I'd fail on sports, I'm worried that when everything would fall apart, I wouldn't even be able to hold onto it.
I feel like I'm falling apart, and I have nothing.
If self harm used to help bind everything in one piece, now I got nothing, and every single falling piece is shattering and I can't even control it.
It has that beautiful thing about the cuts,
I take care of them, keeping them closed, making sure they're doing okay, knowing that if I weren't there to heal them, my body was dying slowly by a disgusting infection, a bit like what I felt with the kittens in Hungary, while I warmed them up.
But now? Nothing.
Oh well, I guess I'd carry on.
It's not like I actually have an option.
I can always entertain myself with continuing with the parade list.
And of course make them real.
Inspired by a conversation we had in Ram about the LGBTQ and the pride parade, I decided to write other parade ideas for minorities.
I feel like the best one I made was about teenagers-that-aren't-sexually-confused.
I just feel like nothing will matter, I'm basically torn and lifting the weight of my parents decision.
Whether I'd cut or anything, be sent back to that horrendous [but freakishly good] place, and my parents would lose their legal guardianship over me, or just suffer silently and miserably.
If only being a runaway were an option.
But where to?
I got all these "wonderful" places surrounding my land, and ISIS is getting closer.
The only escape is overseas.
Sadly, I have nowhere to actually go, at most, I can pretend that I'm a Palestinian but I'm so opposed to the idea that I'd rather suffer silently...
Oh! I can say that I was kidnapped to be a bride for some fucker in Yemen.
Oh, well, today was okay-ish.
I guess I'm saying that it was okay because it's the main word I use to describe how things were or how I'm doing.
I suffered, and I drew most of the time, uninspired, uninterested, just to waste time.
I got better as I got closer to the end of the day, I usually feel happier when things are over, maybe it's something with leaving [Paper Towns].
But then I got home, forced to go out at around four, going with my brother to his football practises, because I'm unallowed to stay at a place without adult supervision.
Outrageous, I know.
I walked, brisk pace, and my mother yelled on me for not going faster.
I walked at their speed, just a meter or two behind them, and she yelled at me endlessly.
I yelled at her back "Stop yelling at me! You're yelling at me all the time!" and after we got finally home, she told my father that I misbehaved.
I was astonished.
What the hell is going on in this place?
I want to die, but I can't just do it.
I just need the option, allowing me to be in peace.
Well, today, when I ran, well, before, Irene talked to me, telling me to not worry, because Sharon [our guidance counsellor] called her.
It's always amusing how my words manage to be messaged differently.
I'm not worried that I'd fail on sports, I'm worried that when everything would fall apart, I wouldn't even be able to hold onto it.
I feel like I'm falling apart, and I have nothing.
If self harm used to help bind everything in one piece, now I got nothing, and every single falling piece is shattering and I can't even control it.
It has that beautiful thing about the cuts,
I take care of them, keeping them closed, making sure they're doing okay, knowing that if I weren't there to heal them, my body was dying slowly by a disgusting infection, a bit like what I felt with the kittens in Hungary, while I warmed them up.
But now? Nothing.
Oh well, I guess I'd carry on.
It's not like I actually have an option.
I can always entertain myself with continuing with the parade list.
And of course make them real.
Inspired by a conversation we had in Ram about the LGBTQ and the pride parade, I decided to write other parade ideas for minorities.
I feel like the best one I made was about teenagers-that-aren't-sexually-confused.
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