Hateful

I hate you. I hate you with all my strength, my breathe and my soul. I would say with all my heart. But because of you I have no heart. No passion.
Btw, thinking of the life you gave me, I am pretty better than I was suppose to be. You are hateful. I do not need to agree with you. But you don't think I may have my own opinions. I am just a fucking dog which has to follow you everything you say.
But I am not like that, so you do not like me. I don't like you either, so we match.
I do not live the life I deserve to live. I am a freedom person who is in prison. In a prison of people who pretend to care. But they do not.

Blood tears

I just... I am feeling alone. In my own room here I am. Surrounded by my all fears and tears. Blood tears. Everything is getting together into a thing that will break me apart any minute.
I need my friends. I want them back. I wanna sit by their side and hold them. Talk to them. But I cannot. I am stuck into a thing I am not guilty for. It is sad because I remember all the things we have been living together. I try to think that is momentaneous. But it does not get any easier. Waiting is getting me nuts. Sad. Mad.
I am only a victim of my living hell life.
So let's the flames begin

Cannot

Omg I can't, I can't, I can't, I can't... I cannot handle this. I cannot!! It is too extressing. I do not want be at home, because I do not find happines there. People say, there is no place like home. For me, there is no such worse place like home. I was supose to feel happy, comfortable, but I don't. I cannot. My parents stress me so so Much that I want to scream out loud. I am tired. Really tired.

Who

First day of vacation. Woke up at 9, swip the floor. Take a shower, go to school than downtown. Some resumes of mine are now in some stores. Need to work in Christmas. Last day of English Course too. I will miss them. I guess now I need a psychologist. I need to talk to someone who will understand me. Writing is good. But it is a one person thing. Instead of only talking, I Wanna be heard too. Wanna know more about myself. I still do not know What this is.

She I do not

Today I saw her. I had not seen her for one week. And we did not even talk to each other in the midtime. I still have feelings for her, it is undeniable. But I got angry now. Because she can be mean. Like today, when she did not talk, even look at me. Just walk out, like I do not exist. For her, I really do not. I have tried, a lot, but it was bullshit. I really do not know why she was friendly sometimes. She talked to me like I was a human being. But I know her now. And she is bipolar. Tripolar, I guess. There is no how someone be friendly and then act like you are a tree. Even though I am in love with her, I do not want her colors anymore. I need to free. Until six months ago we were nothing, only colleagues: the Kind that only say hi in the corridor. I was okay with that. We were nothing and I still want to be nothing with her. I think I would be happier this way. We are happier when we have nothing to sorry. Right now, I am sorry that I tried to get out of the nothing we were. But today I also had good news. Now I am on vacation. I can sleep more, read more and So on. Moreover, I met my buddy Igor. It was the last time I was going to see him this years, so it was special, made me happy. I listen to him and forget my stuff whilst. In addition, I will spend almost three months without seeing her. So I guess I will be able to get free of this craziness which people call feelings. And I am very optimistic.

The perfect daughter nobody is able to be

                I wish I could runaway to someone else’s life. I am tired of mine. Tired of trying and not getting anything.

                Today I asked mom to let me go with some friends to be volunteer in a construction, but she did not let me. She said I cannot have energy to help in a construction if I do not help at home. I still cannot believe she said something stupid like that. I know I could help more, but my mom is so tiring that there is no way for me to be the good daughter she wants. Because for her a good one is someone who cleans the house every day, do everything about cleaning, dishes and so on. I do not know, but I think she wants a maid, not a daughter. Moreover, for me to be like this, I would not study, work and etcetera. I would only work at home, to be able to satisfy her. However, I know she does not think of me, she does not care about my life. She only cares about what she thinks I suppose to do. Not what I really do.

                I do things. When I am at home, I wash the dishes, I make my bed, I clean the terrace. I do much more than people at my age with life as mine. Nevertheless, my parents do not see this. I am never good enough for them. I think nobody would be good for them. The pressure on me is very big. It is too much. It is more than I can handle.

                At a certain time, we get tired of such ingratitude. I do not hear good words. I am never praised. Just screaming and yelling. There is no how I could get will to help, even if I could.

                I do not have voice. I cannot express my own thoughts and opinions. For them, I am being rebel. It is so so disgusting.  I am not a dog. I am a person. I have to be heard. But I am not. For them I am only the small child that has to do everything they say without questioning. I am turning into an adult, perhaps still threatened as a child.

                Just because I go out, it does not mean I have freedom. It is not freedom when I get so mad about getting out that I give up trying.

                I must not talk. Just listen. I should not go out. I cannot do homework and study for tests because I have a house to clean. I must wake up when they say, sleep when they say, eat when they say. Should not think, should not try, should not question.

                Be submissive.