So, I send David an email a little while ago, telling him that I was cutting off all ties because I didn’t want to hurt him anymore than I knew I already had.

I deserve to die. And don’t even TRY to tell me otherwise, because we all know its true at this point. No, actually, you lot of idiots should’ve realized that I deserved to die when I was about six or seven.

I think I’m going to skip school for about a week.

Long story short; Dad was snarling at Ricky, being spiteful to a twelve year old, and I told them both to stop acting like children. Ricky tells me to shut up, I shush him, and Dad yells at me to ’stay out of it’. I tell him to act his age. He says “Well, why don’t you shut up?” and I repeat that he should act his age.

I know I’m in the wrong, but still. “Why don’t you shut up?” What the fuck kind of come back is that? I used that when I was eight and fighting with Natalie.

I haven’t updated in a while, but then again, there hasn’t really been anything to tell you, other than that I got a 95% in Global Studies and a 81% in Biology. Don’t know the rest of my grades yet.

Other than that, I’m kinda still subtly falling to pieces. I barely notice it myself, but I am going there. This is utter bullshit. I hate myself. Well, at least I’ve got good music to listen to.

…

I’m a little bit frustrated with him. Just a little.

Close my door” does not mean “Leave my door open a crack.”

You are a fucking dumbass; listen when I’m talking to you. I’m pissed enough as it is; you’re stupidity is not helping. I don’t give a damn is Clyde has a problem with my door being shut. The rest of you can deal with it; I have my headphones on.

First of all, Gina wasn’t acting like a parent, idiot. She was acting like a concerned big sister, and you have absolutely no right to tell her not to be a  concerned big sister. You and mom both constantly yell at me and Gina for being mean to Ricky, and yet, for some awfully strange, unforeseen reason, you, Dad, feel like you have the right… no, you seem to have the nerve to tell Gina that she was butting in?

If you’re going to play it like that, then you were butting in too, because this little bike affair was none of your business either. It was completely Ricky’s business. You shouldn’t have said anything either Dad, because you weren’t directly involved. Being able to hear it out your window doesn’t mean that it concerns you.

Don’t try to be anyone’s father after you’ve been ignoring us for the past eight years. More specifically, don’t try to act like Ricky’s father after you’ve been ignoring him for eight years. No, make that twelve years. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you show an ounce of affection for either of your boys, even though they look up to you more than me and Gina ever will.

We’re not ganging up on you. This is me talking from my perspective. Gina didn’t con me into this and I’m not being biased. I haven’t liked you at all in a long time, and most certainly haven’t respected you. But that doesn’t mean that I’m just agreeing with Gina because I don’t like you. I’m agreeing with Gina because she’s right and you are wrong. I’m sorry to have to break the news to you, but I’m still smart enough to be able to tell when you’re just being a douche and Gina’s getting angry.

Oh, yes, there was one more thing I wanted to mention. It’s a little bit… well, okay, its completely off topic, but I still wanted to mention it. No, I’m not going to listen to any crap about how you’re trying. I don’t even give a damn anymore.

Stop pretending that you’re concerned about me. I’m just about sick and tired of you constantly saying that “You’re worried about me” and that “If I need to rant, I can just come to you,” Because I know that it’s not true. If I tried ranting to you about you then you would get defensive. And don’t tell me that you won’t because you will. Besides that, you don’t even know what the hell I need, so shut up! I don’t need to rant! I don’t need to yell! What I need is something that you can’t give, never will, and never did! I don’t need you’re help, I’ll fix my damn problems on my own, so stay out my way!

First of all, while this is fairly irrelvant, or so you may think, every summer, i fall to pieces. You know this, I know this, I’m pretty sure we all know this. I had a nervous breakdown loast year, slit up my wrists the y ear before… I kinda wonder what stupid stunt I’m going to pull this time. Maybe I’ll run away from home for a couple of nights. Probably not, but hey, its out there. It’s an option that will get  me in trouble, like I seem to want so badly.

Now, yes, I know that was kind of beside the point, but its something to think about. What was the same those last two years, and what’s the same this year? I don’t know myself, because my memory of my past is actually fairly poor, so you’ll have to talk amongst yourselves to figure out if that’s the case.

Lets see… what else is there that I can see in this abyss of my mind? I see an anxiety, oh yes, a bad one. A terrified little girl crying as she is curled up in a ball, praying to whoever will listen that something can be done to fix her messed up life, make everything the way its supposed to be, and maybe even save her family from separation. That’s all I  want right now; I don’t care about the job, I don’t care about the money. I just want to be friends with everyone in my family, and not just Gina and Mama. YOu boys in this house might think that I hate the lot of you, which I don’t, but you’re not really trying to make yourselves a little different so that you won’t irritate me so easily. You should know by now why I snap at you all the tiome, so why can’t you fix yourselves and try to be more cautious around me, instead of being the ignorant fools that I loathe.

That, in more basic words, is me saying ‘lets fix this together, and become a family again, okay?’ And while I know the chances of you listening to what I have to say are slim, I still have to hope. After all, if I don’t, who will?

What else is there that has my head in a bundle of scrap metal? Well, I’m not quite sure, honestly. It’s gotten pretty dark in here. Its kind of lonely.

I don’t know if this is a burn-out, or if its something that’s serious. I guess I’ll just have to wait and find out. I’ve done my bit in trying to figure out what I can. At this point, my brain seems to be shutting itself down. Until next time….

~Kimmie, sort of.

Millie Vanilli is one of my best friends. One of my very few and scarce friends. Derek and Mama both are in the spotlight this time, and I’m going to be merciless.

I don’t know how he did it, but he somehow plucked up the courage to tell me a story about him practically attacking Millie and nearly giving her a fatal fucking heart attack. So I’m pissed at him now, and I probably would’ve slapped him if I had been a little crazier. I don’t care what kind of excuses he can pull out of his ass about how he needs to ‘discipline’ her and teacher her what she’s not allowed to do. Hitting her as hard as possible with a fucking broom will kill her.

Derek and Mama both chase Millie around the kitchen with brooms and slippers and shit, and hit her and practically beat the crap out of her. I swear to fucking God, if you assholes kill one of my best friends, I will go fucking ballistic. I’m not kidding around anymore. If you kill my cat, I will kick your ass. I don’t care if your my parents and I shouldn’t hit you, and I don’t care if your bigger than me. I don’t care anymore; kill my cat and you will die.

You keep complaining about how she jumps on the counters. Well, you know what? If you idiots would rinse shit off once in a while and refill her water bowl, she wouldn’t have a reason to jump on the counters. She wouldn’t bother, because there would be no food for her to get. It’s not hard to figure out. You always come to me and tell me to do the dishes before you kill Millie. I’m not joking around anymore; say that to me again, and I will flip shit on you. I’m not afraid to bitch slap anyone who pisses me off.

Like I said earlier, if Millie dies at the hands of Mama or Derek, I’m going to go crazy. Just because she jumps on the counters doesn’t mean you need to attack her with a fucking broom, you assholes. She’s almost seventeen, isn’t she? That’s approximately 119 years old in cat years. Do you really think that her body will be able to handle being beaten all the damn time? Maybe she has a reason for always eating food. Maybe she’s SICK. Have you stopped to think about that? Maybe she has a bug, or a virus and she’s constantly eating because of it. Beating the crap out of her isn’t going to fix that. If you idiots would get a real fucking job instead of trying to make a living off a job that earns you about 2 cents every month, and maybe get some money together and take her for a check-up, we could FIX THIS PROBLEM.

Maybe that was mean of me to say; that you all have shitty jobs and need to work on getting something real to do. But I don’t care. I have never been so fucking pissed off at you guys in all my life. You’ve been treating Millie like shit, and I’m fucking sick of it. Leave my damn cat alone. I’m surprised she isn’t trying to run away.

I’m done. You can comment about it all you want and pull excuses out of your ass. I don’t care what you have to say; she’s my friend, and you’ve been hurting her.