raeholla: (Default)
Dear Diary,

My dad's been a real fucking hard ass lately. Lately his favorite subject to talk about is my stupidity and lack of basic knowledge. He straight up said to my face the other day that I am not going to excel in life. I'll spend my life working at a fast food restaurant, I won't go to college, and I'll end up dead in an alley before I'm thirty. Honestly, if any of that does happen, it'll be his fault. His "talks" are not inspiring. They are not uplifting, they do not make me want to do better. They make me feel like a piece of shit in a world of shit and shit shit everything is shit basically every time he opens his mouth. Today he yelled "What is wrong with you? What's your problem? Are you on drugs? Is that it? Drugs?" No, d a d, I have never touched drugs or narcotics in my life. I've never even held a cigarette. Believe me, I've had the chance to "blaze it" or "get high" or whatever, and I have not taken it. You know why? Because I WANT to succeed in life, I do not want to be weighed down by a bad teenage past, and I was getting there, but you come along and ruin it. If you let me run things myself, I'd be a happy, stable person, but no. You scream in my face about the importance of grades and business, art school? Pfft, I'm apparently never going to an art school. At least mom is supportive.

February 2014


Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit