The Real Post

I was so angry earlier, and I was all set to get on Blogger and rant and rave about life and how much it sucks, and then I calmed down and I couldn't begin typing, so I closed the tab, left, and went to watch The Matrix.
And now... I'm angry again.

When I first got angry it was because of something which totally ruined my day. It was ANOTHER FUCKING comment that FUCKED me off SO fucking much. Mum called me in to dry the dishes (our dishwasher is broken) and while I was doing that, totally silent, I worked myself into a seething internal rage. After each fork or spoon I dried I slammed it as aggresively as I could into the drawer without getting in trouble. Mum had no idea that anything was wrong as she was immersed in making dinner. When I was done I went to my room, sat on the floor and quitely cried for ten or so minutes. I promised myself that I wouldn't open my eyes until I felt ready to smile and be merry and try not to slam things shut, and the thought that made me finally open them, scarily, was 'everyone in this house is going to die someday'. I didn't think this in the sense that I was going to go on a murderous rampage and kill everyone, but in the way that one day they wont be here to make me feel like such complete and utter crap almost every day.

After this I quietened down, ate dinner, watched Glee. And then I came back out into the office (where our two computer are) to check my mail. Tori's things from 2 hours earlier (Facebook, deviantART, Limewire) were open and so I closed them, knowing fully well that she'd be back out to shout at me. Sure enough she appeared less than five minutes later, demanding that I get off. She unplugged the modem and refused to leave, so I gave up the computer. We had a little argument about the fact that I'd closed her stuff, and when she finally got off ten minutes later she closed my things.
The difference here is that all of Tori's things were easily re-obtainable. Facebook isn't going to disappear because I closed a window. I, however, was loading an episode of Misfits which at that point was pretty well done.

So fuck that. My family sucks and I hate everything. I don't care if what I did earlier was immature or whatever, I still feel like a fucking third wheel. Thank God I still have... my, my, um... never mind. My nothing. At. Fucking. All.

No. I'm not OK.