Moncœurva exploser.

Oh, I'm sure that translation was wrong. I'm not much in the mood to care, though. Adrenaline is still pumping in my veins, after 45 minutes. I've taken a hot bath, but it doesn't seem to be enough. My mind is still screaming, a bit enraged. But my body is numb, lost of all motivation or energy. A bit of a numb feeling, no?

Someday, my heart will explode.

Or a head will, spilled over and seaping out life. I can't seem to be able to control myself around my mother anymore.She told me that she came home everyday to a dad she hated, again, catatonic. He didn't do anything, couldn't hold a job, never showered, etc. Now that I come home from school, come home from my only life I have (don't really have friends or extracirricular activities anymore), she's all I see and everything about her and all the stress and bitterness of the day just builds up together.All I want to do is smash her head open. With something. A frying pan sounds nice.All I see her do is sleep, watch trash TV religiously, and drink Coke. She doesn't seem to shower, not from what I smell. She doesn't have a job because she's been "retired" as a stay at home mom since she was 45, despite the fact that we desperately need the money.She refuses to help me on any serious questions I have, like homework or life questions. I have honestly begun to think she's stupid. In public, it takes her a while to observe information or directions, she always asks several times for the person talking to her to repeat themselves.She doesn't really seem to try to understand the world. She's more or less a puppet, that sits around. Does what she's told. Never asks why or think about the advantages and disadvantages of what she's actually doing. Never ask why about anything she didn't "learn" in school, like the newer scientific theories or studies. But what really irks me, what really brings on the spark over all of this meaningless nonsense, is her trust in my father. She just believes his blatantly empty lies. I don't know what my dad was thinking.Oh, yes I do. He was saving himself, simple human nature. I was hoping a little bit that he'd come clean, but I suppose not, just has to sugar coat everything to help him avoid jail. Yes, it's my fault. Yes, I wish he would've told the whole truth. Yes, I would've probably lied, too, if I was in his place.But even if he did, I don't think my mother would believe it. She's too trusting in him. Believes he's her favorite god, put above the world, that she wouldn't ever give up. The way that true love in marriage works.So, with that, my mother hates me for what I've done, what I've "allegedly" accused my father of, and puts herself above me. Disrespects me. By her tone of voice and vocabulary, you can tell she sees me as a retarded kid (because she honestly thinks I'm mentally off for ruining her life.) Maybe she's the hypocrite, she can't understand why I would dos omething like that to my father,

but she hated her own father just the same.

I'm just getting so sick of her.When I came home, I screamed for 10 minutes straight. Went to fill the bathtub with water. She started bitching about some music on my laptop that turned on (because it came into the internet service area, I believed it was on mute. Couldn't have known it was going to piss her off so much.) So when I came into the kitchen, scooped out an exorbitant amount of ice cream, I started yelling to her in the living room, again. She got fed up and tried to make it into a joke, so she started doing that immature "blah blah blah" thing kids do when adults talk. I don't care. It's her life, if she wants to be a little, stupid brat at the age of 55, that's her problem.

I just. Never have screamed at her so much, before, without her screaming back or without getting in trouble.And when I finished, I felt so empty and worthless, not because I screamed at my own mother. Oh, I detest that bitch. But because I realized my life amounts to nothing but dealing with this woman and listening to her crap. I've spent 16 years doing what she wants me to do, the flute, the cello, chess club, ice skating, craft clubs, the swim team, straight A's. 14 years wasted at school, 16 years wasted in her presence. And it makes me sad that right now, 95% of the life I've lived has been up to her. Sure, my life will be mine once I"m 18, but right now, it's entirely not.I realize parents should dictate their child's life, but it's a bit disappointing, isn't it? A bit depressing. My mother's mother was your typical Asian mom, beat yo ass with a belt if you don't get all high A's. My mother is still a bit strict on that, expects high grades, won't let me drive, wants me to play an instrument, but at least she finally gave up once my dad had to leave.

What if, when you become older, life isn't how you want it to be? Not how you expected it to be, not where you want it? That would break me up inside, realizing how gray we are, how gray this world is.Anyway, with control, that's where substance abuse calms me. It shouldn't. It still does, no matter what the people say. Maybe I'm not truly in control. But I'm in control in the fact of how much I consume, and how I might feel in the end. Two weeks ago, I was lucky enough to get drunk and numb without dealing with the slightest headache the next morning. I wonder why that is. Something I ate? Either way, I have no drugs, I have no cigarettes, only the last resort of alcohol.

I think I've calmed down significantly. I suppose I should go now. Today's blog was a bit of unfocused venting and rambling. One of these days, I'm going to write a blog that's actually worthwhile.

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