the forgetfulness

hate when you don't call. it leaves my mind a million things to race about, even when i know they can't be true. i wasn't going to call at midnight while you were maybe asleep or maybe reading or maybe out, to have you not answer and make me feel desperate. i don't get to see you often, hearing your voice is just the next best thing. honestly, i'm not trying to make a big deal of this, it just brings out so many things. when you were here, every night i got a phone call, but things are different now i understand that. i know sometimes i may seem paranoid but im just trying to hold onto something that i know is making my life better. you.

i'm an idiot.

my room smells disgusting ever since i was sick, i want out of this house unbelievably bad. i am so bored and frustrated with the look the taste and the smell of this house, i think it's literally making me sick. my parents and sister and brother won't stop screaming and crying and i feel like i am an eroding wall, with every punch and jab at each other's dignity a boulder falls. my parents don't love each other, and are making the rest of us suffer by staying together. i love my family, i really do, but i just need a day to be alone. i haven't had a day truely alone since we moved here, and these are the times i wish i drove. i could go someplace and sit or lie down or walk or run or take pictures of things i connect with. i am beginning to feel like everlasting love isn't plausible, its just something our world has dreamed in pictures and standards.

i'm so mad.