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" There is nothing to writing.
All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed. "
- Ernest Hemingway
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If you search the tag #goodnight, you see and read all the thoughts, joys, and troubles of people have before they go to bed from all around the world. It’s interesting to see the makes people’s day and what keeps them up at night. Our joys and troubles are reflected before we leave the day in start of a new one.
my life is one part “wait” and another part “what”
Wait what the quiz is due tonight?
Wait what the lab report is due tuesday not thursday?
Wait what we have to be at work early tomorrow?
Wait what do you mean it’s lunch time? It’s only 11am. I want my hashbrowns
Wait what that’s not how they’re gonna end himym
Wait what I’m not the next avatar?
When you physically feel numb but mentally, you’ve got a thousand thoughts and feelings surging through your mind?
I’ve been so stressed out lately. I had two exams this week and two next week with very little time to study for 3 of them. I failed my exam yesterday so hard (beyond hard).
I was studying in my room today and dad comes in. He usually does this. Pops in. Looks around. Says a few random things or comments about something. Then leaves. Today he asked what subject was the exam yesterday. I said orgo. He asked what is that? Body? I said no. I don’t know how to translate it. He asked chemicals? I said something like that. He asked what kind of class is so hard that I score SO low even after studying late at night to the morning hours for days. I said nothing. Then he left.
Like I really need him to remind me how stupid I am. He thinks HE’S sad that I failed? IM fucking sad. As if I’m not already stressed out enough. I really don’t need all that.
I go down to dinner. We’re having hot pot. I’m quiet. Mom asks why I’m so quiet and look sad. I says I’m just waiting for food. Dad says she’s probably sad about her failing grade.
Tear up. Get up to go to bathroom. I start crying and trying to calm myself down but keep tearing up again and my nose is red. They ask what I’m doing. I say I’m pooping. I return and my nose is red and mom asks what’s wrong. I say nothing. Brother goes she’s probably just sad about school. Leave her alone. Then mom keeps prodding.
Don’t you know just to leave a person alone when they’re on the verge of crying? Like it’s so stupid. They flip out and yell at me whenever I cry. They know when they poke at it I get worse. After all these years, you don’t learn to just leave me alone?
She begins yelling at me and asking why then I start really crying. Yelling at me. Then I say I’m done eating and get up to leave. Brother yells at me. Says get your ass upstairs.
Oh don’t worry I already am. Why would I want to stay there for.
I can still hear her yelling while I’m walking upstairs.
I go back to studying. Hungry. Barely took my first bite of food before I choked on it. Twenty minutes later. Mom comes up and tells me to open the door. First she yells at me for always locking the door—side note: if my door is closed, I want privacy; if my door is locked, if means I don’t want anyone coming in, obviously 💢— saying I’m always locked away by myself in my room. Then proceeds to do the usual mom investigation: what’s wrong what’s wrong is it this is it that etc etc. denial denial don’t wanna talk about it. Then starts assuming stuff. Says if I wanna move out then I should if I don’t wanna work with her fine but speak up etc etc. I say I don’t want anything . She says so you’re not gonna tell me? I say no. Don’t worry about it . Then she walks out yelling how I drive her insane and gonna give her a stroke from high blood pressure .
Just want to be left alone . With food . And water. Is that so much to ask.
I wouldn’t say my bedroom is small, no. It’s quite large, in fact, compared to the average 20 something year old’s bedroom. My problem is that I have too much… STUFF. Just stuff from everywhere. Walls have artwork, shelves, calendars, pictures. I kind of want to decorate my walls… Yet I don’t have room. I do have some room but then it’s not… Zen. It’s not Tina’s zen. Nawutimsayin? Some things just can’t be in this corner cause you can’t really see it and other things can’t be next to these paintings cause they have their own mood aura area going on there. Sigh. I create my own problems.