Time, time, time.

Lots of things today. 

To say. 

That I feel. 

That I want. 

That don't exist. 

Have become suddenly unfair. 

I can't really grasp the everything that is going on at the moment. I choose to just sit and watch it. Like a I'm watching rapids rush around me and everyone else is jumping in, but I'm so busy watching and I'm too afraid to even stick my foot in to test the water. Oh, I've thrown my pebbles and twigs, but they don't stick. 

LT said it in reference to herself. I think it holds true here too. 

I'm not being fair to myself. 

I shouldn't have to be controlled by the whims of others. I have no problem standing up for myself. It's just really hard when I'm not sure what I'm standing up for. 

I've been questioning everything lately. From my own personal morals, the things I used be believe as fact, the friends I thought I trusted, the schools I thought I wanted. Suppressed desires are resurfacing and I can't make up my mind or appease anything. 

And time's over there in the corner tapping it's foot. It reminds me less then subtly that I'm almost out. 

And yet, I'm not almost out at all. I have a good seventy years left if all goes well. So why do I feel so pressured by the hypothetical tomorrow?

A couple of days ago I talked about how happy I am with my current situations. And true as it is that I'm happy with Rainbow, I'm not happy at home. At home I am a child and in my mind I am not. I can't be allowed to think for myself when I'm at home. And I shouldn't when I'm part of their family unit. I have responsibilities to uphold for them. But at the moment, selfishly, my priority is myself. I have to figure it out. I'm not even sure if I can do it right now. And I've longed for this independence since my 12th birthday. I need to remove myself. Because I can not come home anymore to their ridiculousness. It further clouds my thoughts. I can't deal with my mom talking about college when she has it all wrong. She doesn't believe there is a such things as early admissions, or that my SAT scores or that my GPA or that I am enough to get into any school. And as much as I know that, while average, my SAT scores will get me into a college and my GPA is a 4.2 if you take into consideration that I take the hardest classes I can, and always have- it's becoming tiring to remind myself I can succeed. 

I can't start believing her because it's already hard enough to try and get things done when she's making me believe I'll fail. I need her for a support. Her concern about the wrong things and refusing to believe when I tell her otherwise is bringing me down. I'm not getting anywhere the longer I stay in this house where I am held back by the child I used to be. It's tough, but I have to grow up now. 

It's funny how I use Rainbow as my escape. Molly is in trouble for some bad grade she got and whenever she is in trouble my mom finds something to be upset with me about. My house is hostile at the moment. So, I go to crew call. And Kris shares his wisdom. And we talk about politics. Which hurts my head just enough to forget about coming home to silent stares that speak soliloquies. 

Regarding other things I can't explain right now:

I want to be in the studio theatre show so badly! Script sounds good. Interesting. Intimate setting- I've always found that tricky. There the subtleties really do count because the audience is so close.  Also, I've always wanted a romantic role. And if it is what she says it is, this could be lots of fun. Except watch Ali or Michael or Chris get the other role. Although, I'm not sure who I would rather it be. Just someone fun.

Who knows. There are lots of girls. 

Also, don't have my monologues for CalArts yet. It's a really good thing I memorize things quickly. I keep thinking maybe I should do one of the ones I've already rehearsed,d but I don't know if any of them are really appropriate. 

The Shakespeare one will be the hardest. 

Also, because I should get going, to the boy who will never read this and wouldn't understand it was for him if he did, I just want to hold your hand. I wasn't clear before. And you think I've let it go. But it's still there. And that's what I want. We have before. In situations where I don't think it counted. I was too pushy before at the worst time I could have been. We didn't talk about it. And we probably never will. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Opportunity and obligation overwhelm me.
I need plans. Laid out. For me to follow.

I know I'll figure it out. If not this moment, soon. It'll come to me. I'll get there. I'll grow up. Now I just have to wait.

Cool?

Another Letter I Wish You'd See

Yes. I am aware this all could have been avoided if I had only bowed my head and apologized.

But, I was told to not apologize unless I mean it. Because what is the use of an empty apology?A band aid for a problem that really needs stitches.

We don't see eye to eye here, I know. But, for once I am upset. I am not going to give in to you. For 17 years I've given in to your silly rules and harsh guidelines. You were cruel to 4 year old me. To 8 year old me. 13 year old me. I can only remember a few times when I stood up for myself and only one time when I truly deserved my punishment. Let us step into the way back machine. Let me bring up some painful memories you have suppressed into oblivion.

This will seem ridiculous to you that I remember. But, I vividly do. I could not have been more then 6. It was early in the morning and Molly and I had been playing dress up. We were in her room. Clothes were all over the floor and I was picking another jewel off of the dress-up trunk. I liked to peel the glue off. I liked to play with the colored plastic gems. I was 6. I do not remember the reason you yelled at me. It wasn't because I hit Molly or broke anything. I want to say it was because I was pulling those jewels off. But, I just can't imagine that sparked the conflict that followed. You were furious with me for the rest of the day. You slapped me. Molly was crying. I remember things in a blur. I remember that after you sent me to my room I took my clothes and put them in my back pack and grabbed my teddy bear and walked out the front door. I walked to the end of my street and realized that I was being stupid. I couldn't go anywhere you would not find me. So, I sat with my bear on the edge of my driveway. It didn't take long for you to come outside. I was expecting you to be crying. On TV they were always sad. But, you yelled at me. Told me to try to find somewhere else to live. See if someone else would give it to me as good as I had it. You finally broke into hysterics and gave in. You let me watch My Little Pony in your bed and everything between us was fine again. I wish I knew what was going through your head when you got mad at us as children.

I still think that the Wednesday of spring break when I was eight was one of the worst days of my life. It makes you so angry that I remember. We were going to go to Toys R Us after we got all of our books sorted ready to give away. Molly and I were sorting them in the loft and you starting yelling at us because we weren't done soon enough. I'm not kidding. You were yelling because we didn't sort it fast enough. I'm sure I said something to was borderline rude or sarcastic or "flip" or something because you just exploded from there. We were each sent to our rooms. I started frantically cleaning because, knowing you, anything would set you off. I know Molly was doing the same. Molly's room comes first in the hallway and so she fell pry to your attack first. I remember her scream. I rushed out of my room and yelled at you to stop. This is the first time I remember standing up to you. You were surprised. You were removing everything from her room. It was her doll that you took from her that made her scream. She was still a child whose life was centered around imaginative games with her dolls. And you were taking that away. You hit me and came into my room next and started taking things out. I was crying. You made a nice pile right in front of the stairs of all of the toys we had. With our rooms barren you took our drawers and dumped all of the clothes on the floor. The fact that our drawers were always messy has always upset you. You went downstairs to probably sit on your ass and watch tv. We cleaned. I remember coming downstairs sometime later to beg for forgiveness. I wanted my toys back. I wanted my room back. I didn't want you to be mad anymore. You asked me if my room was clean. (Oh Princess, did you clean up your room?) You yelled at me for something else. (No? Of course not. Why would Princess have to do any work in this house?) Whatever it was, you threw me to the floor. You started screaming at me like I've never known. You picked me up and dropped me back calling me Princess all the while. I don't remember the rest of that day but that pile of toys you used as a reward system. We could get a toy back whenever we didn't do something wrong. Until you got sick of that and just gave it all back.

The only time I remember you getting mad at me for any sort of real reason was when I was in 7th grade. At that point I was terrified of you knowing about any of my bad grades. I could only get As. So, when I got lost in math and had a D on the progress report you were supposed to sign, not report card- no...just the sort of check up that I hate- I knew I couldn't show it to you. You would have killed me. So, in a nervous fit, I signed Dad's name and turned it in. I really should have known she would catch me. She called while I was starting to eat diner- soup. I watched you and remembered your hysterical voice. The food disappeared. You sent me upstairs. I sat and waited for you. Again, I had frantically cleaned my room. You came up and yelled and demanded. I explained myself the best I could through my tears. You told me you were going to call the cops. You told me to run away. I told you I wanted to. Now, I was at fault here. I think you still reacted badly, but I did do something I wasn't supposed to. I should not have signed his name. And for once, your punishment was effective. I will never forge someones name again.

But, this situation is so different for all of those. This is a situation where I am going to argue if there is even a situation. For once, I am going to stay upset about this until you can talk to me like I'm an adult. I wasn't kidding when I said it was abuse. It was. And those were not the only times- oh no. I've learned your scare tactics and as much as I wish they didn't still work on me -they do. You hold all the power. And you love to take away my little freedoms. You are the bully on the playground that has to be bigger then all the littler kids. You have to assert authority over someone you know you already have control over.
Tonight you declared you want utter control over my life.
You have to know where I am every moment.
I just wish I had done something legitimately wrong.
I just don't think it's fair. Recently at least, I have never, ever done something to make you suspect that I wasn't worthy of your trust. Excuse my conceit, cockiness- whatever, but you are lucky. I have never done anything illegal. I have never gotten drunk or high. All because you are stuck in the back of my head censoring my every movement. You already control my every move. I don't need you officially doing it. This is such a stupid week to be having this stupid fight. I keep thinking, in respect of recent events, about the parents who would give anything to have their children again. That father just kept saying how he wished he could tell his son one more time how proud he was of him. I wonder about you sometimes. I don't need your approval. At this point, I just wish you could let me live for me. Why do we bother fighting?It's so stupid. Such wasted breath that leads to futile regret. Can we please just talk about this?
I want to have the little freedom to be able to make the choice that I can go out to eat lunch with my friends after school and come home at 4:30 without telling you. And you can call me if you are worried. I have been making more important life decisions for myself without telling you long before now. You know nothing about the colleges I want to go to. About the things I do at school And honestly, that's more important then all of this. I think I just want you to see the bigger picture. Stop reasserting your authority. It's not a matter of respect. I respect you. But, I'm done with you not respecting me. You are such a child sometimes. You're only power is your voice.
You said you were going to tighten the leash. You pull the leash and the harder the dog pulls the other direction.
You're going to lose me. You're going to force me away. I want to talk about this. I want to talk about this. I will go crazy if you don't give me some freedom to think and make choices for myself.

I'm sorry none of this makes sense. I'm so sad. And so angry. I can't seem to express the problem or how I feel about it.

I don't know what to do. I need to talk to someone about it. I am at fault. I know. But, I really think this is bigger then that. I want to be treated the way I should be. Every person does.
Someone tell me what I should do. Someone just talk with me about this.

Funny, I ask someone to tell me what I should do when all of this is about thinking for myself.

It's days like these when I remember I am just like everyone else.

The topic of this entry frustrates me before I've even started writing what it is. Just the idea that I feel compelled to write this entry pains me. But, I want to. I need to.

Welcome to being 17.

Here you are trapped behind that number. It defines you as a person in both your intellectual capabilities and your physical. It decides what you truly care about and what you deserve to have a say in.
I suppose it's always that way. And I've always been and will most likely continue to be annoyed about it beyond my fill.

Tonight was not the night for this to happen. I was going to enjoy the fact that its technically my Friday. I leave for Reno tomorrow. And tonight I was going to actually sit at my desk and NOT do homework and then clean my room. It was just my understanding that I needed to have it clean before Reno.

Still, as this always happens, my parents get sick of how my room is not clean at the most inconvenient times. They are just so idiotic about it. And I stay calm through all of their ridiculous rage. In fact, I take a little joy in seeing how far I can push them. Which is stupid on my part but I have got to win some of these battles. Even if it's the self-created kind.

I've been busy. Really, really busy. I sacrifice my sleep for my homework and my sanity. I've been averaging three and a half hours a night. For the past week or more. It's starting to effect my heath. I get this splitting headaches when I start to get tired.

I'm sorry but I've found better things to do then put my laundry away. There are greater things in the world then a dirty room. Yes, this is about a dirty room. I thought we were over this. I could be doing inappropriate things with me time, illegally inappropriate, but I spend it all at community theatre, and you waste all of this rage, and I do mean rage, on the pile of laundry.

It makes me sad.

Ah! There is so much I wanted to say about this. I had some really great thoughts and some really great points. But, I am tired beyond the point of proper functioning and my head is beginning to ache. I'm sorry for the stupid rant. I'll redeem myself later I promise. I just wanted a post before I left and I had the material so there.