My father's cheating on my mother. 

I have known this on some levels for a long time now. I don't know the details to it...or anything concrete. I don't have any leads, neither do I have a name or...I guess I really don't have any "proof" as to who is cheating with. But this isn't a fucking mystery and I'm not any one of the fucking Famous Five. So I don't want to look for any further evidence. It sickens me. I don't even know if it's one person.  Whether it's physical or just online. Whether everytime he goes for an official trip, it really does extend for 4-5 days or whether some part of it is spent with somebody. I don't know anything. I don't know if I *want* to know either. 

What little I do know physically sickens me. It's not just my mother, he's cheating on me too, as a parent. He's cheating on a family. He's being unfaithful and perverted and he is not even man enough to just fucking walk out of this fake "life" he's created with Mum.

She's in the same room, sleeping. He talks to God Knows Who while his wife is right next to him, and he takes advantage of the fact that she's clueless...or atleast feigns to be. He is vile. I hate him for this. I know I am supposed to love him, but I don't for this. He's unfaithful. He's weak. He's sick and he is transperant and he is much dumber than he thinks he is. 

I got the Invite mail to your Dating site, Dad. Guess you forgot I was on your Contact List. Guess you forgot your wife is too. 

I have seen you closing your chat windows when I or Mom walk into the room and catch you unawares.

I have noticed how you turn the computer right off from the main switch when we get back home, so we can't see what you've been doing.

I know you watched porn, I knew it when I was 9 Dad. And I know it today. I also know what you're doing now is worse. 

I may not be strong enough tonight, but I *will* confront you about this. 

You sick sonofabitch. I'll get back at you for this. I will for Mom's sake.

 I hate you.

I am just very very tired right now. I guess I owe it to my erratic sleep patterns and fluctuating eating habits. I've been purging a lot again, and I cannot bother to keep my weight in watch either. I just know I am not gaining. Was 99 pounds the last I checked. Indifferent about that too.

Stressing about things, and just basically depressed I guess. 

...


I don't know what it's going to take to put my mind in a positive tangent, I have thought of just about everything that's an option, and none of it seems even remotely capable of being helpful.

Maybe writing...I don't know. I think I'm going to go lie down. If only the Voice made it easier on me and let me take a nap after meals without reminding me loudly of the potential to pack on the pounds that way.

I hate all of this. Hate this.

Do you ever need a reason?

Do you ever question yourself why you're depressed? Makes you wonder whether there ever really *is* ever a reason. Sure, you laugh or smile with reason....maybe someone cracked a joke, or you just recalled something silly and it makes you happy. You feel heartbroken with reason. Your heart is broken...isn't that reason enough? You cry with reason. Something or someone hurt you enough to lose composure and shed that smoke screen of poise. But why does one transcend into that dark, deep, bottomless void where you don't feel any of those feelings? Is there some reason you end up with that dull, distant pain somewhere inside you, you just cannot put your finger on it and point it out. It's constant, it's frustrating, it's crippling, it makes you forget all those positive thoughts you tried so hard to gather and believe in. 

Sometimes you get tired of pretense. 

Sometimes you just get tired of living. 







Stop.

Losing, all the way.

So I weighed myself yesterday at the pharmacy, which I haven't done for a long time. Not because I have gotten some sense, more so because I am always too scared I would have gained horrendously and everything that would inevitably follow. I was surprised to see I had lost a bit. Happy surprised. Woke up in the morning to a nasty couple of falls though. My knees buckled twice and I fell back on the bed both times. And now my lower back is incredibly sore.

I am hoping it was from just lying the wrong way and then maybe trying to get up too fast. 

That's the hope. 

My father is bugging me for the computer. More later.

xx

Getting screwed over, being in the "safe" zone and hypodermic needles.

So I waited around for a couple hours for J today but he didn't make it...oh well..you can't always have what you wish for I guess. That should be the *first* thing children should be taught. Right after "Never ever ever be scared to dream". Kind of a contradiction. Eh.

Meaningless! These words make no sense. What's happened to my desire to blog anyway? It seems to have skyrocketed to non-existence. And the only reason I make an effort to even sign in on here everyday is so I can record a few memories to look back upon in the distant future. That's the only reason. To make memories.

Nikita Opal got caught with her boyfriend and apparently that's a major no-go with her mom and dad, so yes, she is in the proverbial shit-hole with that. Wonder how she's going to fare in tomorrow's practical exam (Biology. I am so dead, by the way.) with all this going on. I know how hard it is to concentrate in answering the paper, leave alone studying or revising the day after being royally reduced by your parents to inexplicable defenseless goo. 

I performed the worst in a Social Science and Chemistry exam after ED-related fights with my parents the nights before. Anyway. Part of life I guess. Hope she can get herself out of this tangle soon enough. When I come to think of it, I should be thankful my parents aren't that uptight. Or for that matter, I'm not that wayward. Either way. Saves drama. I know my mum would rather I be promiscuous than be throwing up every meal in privacy. Screwed logic, but I understand, at some level.

Anyway, must get back to drawing prawns' backsides. The joy!

xx

Fuck Valentine's? I'm sorry. Fuck you.

I am sorry. I am not a nihilist. Neither am I in the bandwagon of people who blow their royal pompous trumpet about how Valentine's Day is just an excuse so companies like Archie's and Hallmark can peddle expensive tokens of "love" and promote rampant and shameless consumerism amongst the unsuspecting public. You know what, screw that. 

Screw the cards, they are pretty. Screw the millions of soppy rhymes and logos and screw the huge big bouquets of red roses which smell like heaven. Screw exotic chocolates in exorbitantly priced pearly-white cases. If consumerism was such a big holy sin and if showing someone you love them by gifting them something you know would mean a lot to them, is in any way,wrong pathetic or wrong, then so is the celebration of all other special. I say to hell with birthdays too. We could just acknowledge our life with a disinterested nod and walk away with our elitist nose in the air.

We all have opinions. Hell, we are entitled to them, there's no harm in having set views on things! But to be so rat-assed caught in our own high-and-mighty mumbo-jumbo that we simply refuse to accept ideas otherwise, is foolish and idiotic and downright pig-headed. 

So I apologize, but I wish I could be with the person I love today, like *every single day*. I want him to know he means the world to me a couple times over *like every day*. I wish I could sit with him under the night sky and look at the stars and hold his hand. I wish these things *every single day*. And I wish them today too.

So if wanting to give him a an extra big hug and take aside a day specifically to let him know how important he is to me, makes me shallow, well I am happy being that way! And yes, to the haters who hate just for the sake of hating;

<3<3<3

Pictures for Words