Thursday, 22 April 2010.

>>

I am mad at you.

I absolutely absolutely am.

Because you're allowed to pressure me to agree with ridiculous things, and I'm not allowed to try to tell myself that everything is okay.

You don't get to have problems with me being screwed-up when you're so many times more so.

You don't get to have problems with me 'not caring about you' when you come up with that sort of thing.

I'm serious. It's completely unfair.


I'm mad at you, I'm mad at her; somehow I am in the process of alienating or being alienated by both sides.

Maybe I'm just too angry, too quick to be mad at either;
but in both scenarios it's the only way I am currently capable of responding.




Oh welll. Tomorrow is my Chinese test; I already know I'm going to die.

And if you don't mean it, it doesn't make it any better.
If you're just messing with me, that makes you even worse.

I may have said I wouldn't go anywhere

but I don't have to mean what I say either, you know.

And if I find a friend to talk to because you've been a douche, I don't need to be told how you told them in advance how much fun it was to bully me.

Bullying, we all let it fly by, right? We're evil to Vivian, we're evil to nice ownable people and nicer ownabler juniors; nobody's supposed to care, just accept your natural place in the pecking order already.

Well, I don't want to be bullied.

I don't want to be bullied.

Clear?

Perhaps you've understood that. Perhaps you'll come back and talk to me once you've learned to see me as an equal.

{ 9:02 pm }