It's just a movie. One I've watched many, many times before. It's one of my favorites. But now, when I think of seeing it again, I just feel sad and pressured. Like I don't have enough time in my life left to watch the whole thing, or whatever. Or like I don't love it anymore. And that's not it, I know I do; but this morning I woke up, and I didn't know how it started. It came to me eventually but I froze. That never happened before; since I was ten I've had it memorized. And for the past three days or whatever now I've told myself, "Today I'll watch it. Today I'll watch the series!" But I keep procrastinating and I don't know why. I used to never be able to say no to watching it; and now I just cannot get in the mood.
I just feel all empty inside. And then I think about something else and that's the worst part, I feel the same way. It's like all my happiness has been sucked out of me, and it's living my fantasies while the physical part of me is stuck behind four closing walls. Walking on a carpet stained with five-year-old pet pee. Looking at walls with chipped paint. There are stains on the ceiling! Who the @#$% would want to buy this miserable place? If all of us went out and we came back and it was burning to the ground, I'd thank the arsonist responsible. Frankly there's less animal pee in the grass. At least outside I won't be terrified that the sky will fall in the middle of the night and clunk me a good one on the head. Of course another hit to the head might knock some sense into me. Hah, dream on! Nothing will ever click, will it. I've got such a bright and intelligent bunch of family. And then there's me. A manly woman with a high hairline, a giant forehead, a teeny tiny five foot four frame, and this monstrous nose that I inherited from the elephant someone must have had bestial sex with. I gag every time I look in the mirror. I turn down prospective dates because everyone can do better. I sit at my computer all the bloody time so I don't ruin my family's day. And you would think being here so much would improve my writing skills, but nope, after I got my family my luck ran dry. I can't turn heads when I walk by. I can't astound and amaze with my incredible intelligence. I'm just pathetic. Why am I even here? I don't mean on Blogger; because being the lowlife I am, I need to come here just to get a load off. I mean alive, because, well, I'm worthless. I have no future. I can't get a job, because loud noises, bright lights, laughing and breathing make me dizzy. I fail at every topic in school; and for some reason I'm going back to make a spectacle out of myself. I'm not rich. I'm not healthy. I can't even be attractive. And you need at least one of those things to make it in this life. And if I could choose between the three, I don't know if I could decide without regrets. I regret everything I do; but also everything I don't. I'm like this giant walking mistake.
For once in my life, I'm glad that my siblings aren't a thing like me.
I just feel all empty inside. And then I think about something else and that's the worst part, I feel the same way. It's like all my happiness has been sucked out of me, and it's living my fantasies while the physical part of me is stuck behind four closing walls. Walking on a carpet stained with five-year-old pet pee. Looking at walls with chipped paint. There are stains on the ceiling! Who the @#$% would want to buy this miserable place? If all of us went out and we came back and it was burning to the ground, I'd thank the arsonist responsible. Frankly there's less animal pee in the grass. At least outside I won't be terrified that the sky will fall in the middle of the night and clunk me a good one on the head. Of course another hit to the head might knock some sense into me. Hah, dream on! Nothing will ever click, will it. I've got such a bright and intelligent bunch of family. And then there's me. A manly woman with a high hairline, a giant forehead, a teeny tiny five foot four frame, and this monstrous nose that I inherited from the elephant someone must have had bestial sex with. I gag every time I look in the mirror. I turn down prospective dates because everyone can do better. I sit at my computer all the bloody time so I don't ruin my family's day. And you would think being here so much would improve my writing skills, but nope, after I got my family my luck ran dry. I can't turn heads when I walk by. I can't astound and amaze with my incredible intelligence. I'm just pathetic. Why am I even here? I don't mean on Blogger; because being the lowlife I am, I need to come here just to get a load off. I mean alive, because, well, I'm worthless. I have no future. I can't get a job, because loud noises, bright lights, laughing and breathing make me dizzy. I fail at every topic in school; and for some reason I'm going back to make a spectacle out of myself. I'm not rich. I'm not healthy. I can't even be attractive. And you need at least one of those things to make it in this life. And if I could choose between the three, I don't know if I could decide without regrets. I regret everything I do; but also everything I don't. I'm like this giant walking mistake.
For once in my life, I'm glad that my siblings aren't a thing like me.
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