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I am incredibly upset...I wish I could fall asleep and forget it.
ddq_jl · Wed Jun 24, 2009 @ 06:34pm · 0 Comments |
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Okay so after this I may sound like a whiny brat. Maybe I am. You all will probably be thinking that this isn't so bad and I know lots of people have it worse than me, but I have just been so stressed out that I'm at my breaking point. It was my freaking spring BREAK...but I didnt get much of a break.
Just so no one is confuzzled, when I talk about the "bed" I was sleeping on, I am referring to one of those couch pull-out things. It is like 3-4 times as old as me and only about 2-3 inches thick.
We (my mom, uncle, sis-in-law, brother, nephew, dad) went to my grandmother's house in Virginia. It is about a 7-7 1/2 hour drive.
Ok so on the way down and back, I had to ride with my nephew in the back. He is 4 years old and very unused to long car rides. When he got bored, he picked his nose and picked random spots to wipe them...Then he would hit me who knows what. And I have been so sleep deprived lately that I tried to nap. Every time I was about to fall asleep, he would jab me with something to wake me up to look at whatever he saw. (A cow, a mountain, etc)
On with the problems with him...Later in the trip, we went up some wavy roads into the mountains. His mother had been talking about how sick the roads made him, and of course it rubbed off onto him. (So usual) We open his door and he barfs all over the place!! He got most out of the car, but some got inside. Now I've been sick lately (dizzy spells, nausea, headaches) and I got really sick right before we headed back to my grandma's house. My sister-in-law didn't clean up the car, so already sick me had to smell barf all the way home on those twisty road (1-1 1/2 trip). Besides that, everyone in our car decided to talk about puking. Oh it was lovely.
Oh and let me explain. At my Grandma's bedtime is 11-12 and you better be up around 6 or else you're lazy!(Even though it is break) Ok well 6 am wake-up, sorry didn't do. My nephew and I, being the kids, had no choice in sleeping place. We got the living room. With no door. Right off the entry room. Well of course most the adults went out and got drunk at night. Well my one uncle who lives there didn't. He stayed in our room, snoring with some cop show(rapid gunfire all night, oh joy) playing all night.(Well he got up later..but anywho) Then the drunks came in, talking loudly and flipping on all the lights. They walked into the living room, flipping lighters in our faces, talking to us, and bumping into the bed. Then my other uncle went to sleep in the chair and the snorefest really started. I'm surprised he didm't wake the whole house. But that's what happens when you stay out late.-.- And then, of course he slept in hours after we were allowed. And the bed, oh that lovely bed. My feet hung off the end. And I'm pretty short! I fell through the bed twice, straight to the floor when I kneeled on it. My nephew caused problems too. He decided to lay on me. One night, I awoke to him punching and kicking me. I told him to stop and he scooted to the foot of the bed. I almost kicked him off, so finally I dragged him back up. He also forgot a banket and kept stealing mine.
We slept with bug lotion and bracelets on. After my grandfather died, the house fell apart. Remember, we're out in the country. Spiderland. It is not unusual to wake up covered in all types of bugs(spiders, ladybugs, mosquitoes, etc) so we were careful. And these are not your normal bugs; the spiders are poisonous. I had a brown recluse climb up out of the shower drain at me before. The yard is also full of snakes, but it was cold enough that they were not out yet. I have a big spider fear, so my dreams were filled of images of being eaten alive. (oh joy!)
Anywho, it is pointless to shower there. The house is filthy. Everything you use to eat must be washed before you use it unless you want chunkies in your food. (Protein?) Most of the food is spoiled, so we brought our own food. Anyway, back to the dirt. The beds, floors, every surface, is covered in dead bug chunks, dirt, and who knows what. It makes me sick to eat there. Literally. I've gotten food poisoning there.
One thing I do like there is shopping. Everywhere we went (almost), we had to take my grandma. She rushed us through the stores and only let us go where she wanted. She complained about people and it was just awful. I couldn't look around because she hurried so much.
I'm not sure what else..I'm sure I can update it. Mostly, I had to endure dirt n disrespect, two things I really can't stand.
ddq_jl · Mon Apr 09, 2007 @ 03:29am · 0 Comments |
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I just realized I know exactly how to tick off my parents... and I find it very funny.
My dad is easy...just complain about how much he has been eating or tell him he smokes too much. He told my mom to slap me...haha
My mom is a bit harder; she doesnt get as mad. She gets mad when I talk about her smoking and heading towards her death...but it works better when I write anti-smoking stuff down leave it someplace she will find it easily.
I also think I am mildly allergic to cigarette smoke, but my mom claims it's because the school it telling me all the bad stuff about it... Another excuse...
ddq_jl · Fri Feb 09, 2007 @ 09:24pm · 0 Comments |
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Me
I have my crazy moments, Lose sight of that which I want to see, But I am forever searching, Searching for the person inside of me.
I am beautiful ‘cause I say so. I keep my emotions under lock and key. I am not always there on the outside, Yeah that’s me.
Energetic and resourceful, My eyes are the color of the sea. Take care to guard my feelings, Lest you try to understand me.
I have so much to tell you, Instead I chat with a tree. Quietly stare into space, Trying to figure out me.
I’ve come to a conclusion, It took so long to see. The answer was so easy, I am simply me.
ddq_jl · Fri Jan 12, 2007 @ 03:57am · 0 Comments |
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I Am…
Caressing hearts, Holding hands, Blushing the cheeks of lovers, And causing joy in a small-town café. I am love, keeping you warm inside.
Turning up the corners of your mouth, Putting sparkle in your eyes, Causing warm exclamations, And energized steps. I am joy, keeping you sweet.
Names do not matter, As darkness falls, I lay your children down to sleep, With trembling hearts and quiet breaths. I am fear, keeping you young.
Teaching you pain can be tolerated, Showing consequences of bad actions, Tugging on you inside, Handing you the other side of life. I am sadness, keeping you alive.
ddq_jl · Fri Jan 12, 2007 @ 03:55am · 0 Comments |
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Pain
Inside, dark fire rages on, No one can tell that anything is wrong. A smile, a lie, a little thing or two, I could easily deceive you.
Inside, I am burning, My heart yearns to pour out. Under my skin lies a terrible itch, My own internal glitch.
Look deep in my eyes, You’ll see the real me. The pain, the fear that nips my soul, Opening up a terrible, gaping hole.
My heart cries for help to those on the outside, All it finds are those who choose to ignore its pleas. Although the pain stills stings me, I shall not allow anyone to see.
ddq_jl · Fri Jan 12, 2007 @ 03:54am · 0 Comments |
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Her sky blue eyes quickly scanned the dark, smoky room. She was told she could find the cabbie, J Smith, whom she needed to find badly, here. She walked up to the pool table farthest from the door, her long, red skirt making swishing sounds behind her. Taking a chance, she walked up to a tall man at the far end of the table. “Can you take me to Shady Alley?” she asked him. The word on the street was that only J would be daring enough to drive customers into the gang-ruled city that centered around Shady Lane. She guessed this man was the most likely of the patrons in the place to be the man she was looking for because of his rough appearance and obvious supremacy over the other men in the hall. “Who’s askin’?” he questioned her, baring his yellow teeth. “That does not matter. As a paying customer, it is your job to deliver me to my destination. And, believe me, you will be well paid.” She looked defiantly at the large man until, finally, he said, “Let me get my keys.”
They wound their way through several dark, sinister-looking alleys before arriving at an even more sinister looking cab. The paint was as dark as midnight, with spikes on the wheel rims and a string of sharp nails spread across the hood. The door simply stated “J’s Cab Service” in blood red paint. The outer appearance of the cab did not surprise her however, and, soon, she stepped inside. The inside was no less intimidating. The black leather was embroidered with skull and cross bone images. The wheel cover contained no less that fifty silver studs. A scary-looking pit bull glared at her from the sign on the rear view mirror. The girl took it all in and sat down on the back seat.
The cabbie took her through street after street, the houses becoming more rundown all along the way. She looked out the window with impassive eyes, remembering her last trip through here almost ten years ago. Everything had seemed nicer then in her bright, young eyes. The changes hardly shocked her, for it was not the place that had changed but her view of the world. As she grew older she learned to accept the world was not as wonderful as she once thought.
Two streets away from Shady Lane the cab suddenly halted. She looked up from her reverie. “As far as I go,” J grunted at her. She handed him his money and stepped out. She began walking down the broken sidewalk, attempting to ignore the beggars at every turn. One snagged her skirt. A whole strip of cloth ripped away unevenly, leaving her skirt a full two inches shorter than before. She walked away, not caring.
Twenty minutes later she arrived at a dilapidated house several feet off the road, dirty and homely looking. The shutters barely hung to the siding and the blue paint was chipped, showing the dirty white paint that had preceded it. She carefully walked up the broken steps leading to the porch. The door was open so she stepped inside and looked around. The house was a mess. Food was splayed across the floor like a magazine display and a curdled bowl of milk sat on the floor, waiting for the cat that was likely to never return.
Her haggard-looking mother got up from the broken sofa she had been situated on, walked over, and gave her a sloppy kiss. Her nose picked up the strong scent of alcohol and the fainter odor of cigarette smoke, yet she smiled. She was home.
ddq_jl · Fri Jan 12, 2007 @ 03:51am · 0 Comments |
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