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ShadowedMoonlight's Journal
My life, my thoughts, my opinions. What you would usually get in a journal.
I hate those people.
Konnichiwa.
I went to my fathers' this weekend. Oh the joy. I hate those people with a passion. Bunch of hypocritical, self-absorbed, closed and shallow minded, jumped up illiterate morons. They're wastes of oxygen. I hate those people sooo much. They think I do nothing right, my mother does nothing right, and every bloody single thing they do is so perfect. I wish to gouge out their spleens with the spikey part of a rusty battle axe. stare scream They made us shower soooo many times, and made us put on enough deoderant to kill a small herd of yak from 50 meters. And they know too many chemicals make me ill. But noooo. They pump the air I have to breath and be in full of air fresheners, deoderants, perfumes, incence, the list goes on. My eyes and head still hurt. And then they say I'm not considerate because I only want to shower twice in the time between 7am and midday. scream domokun domokun They constantly criticize and talk down about myself, the way I act, the way I dress, the way I do everything and anything, and the way my mother acts, raises me and my brother, even the way she talks to people. A lot of the time they talk to me and say things like 'when you did that modeling course you were bullied and came home crying because you was picked on because you acted like this and did this this this and this'. They weren't even f*cking there! She didn't even KNOW me when I did that course! Where the hell does she get off thinking she knows what happened and why it was my fault? For starters, I was bullied because I was too quite and polite, not because I was 'loud, rude, overbearing and in you face' as you so wonderfully put it, Marie. And I was crying because I was homesick after a three-day camp, and mother was a little late because of traffic. I was worried because Mum's never late, and I was crying because of that concern for her. Grrrr. She is a b!tch that thinks she knows everything but knows f*cking NOTHING. I swear, if I didn't want inheritance and if I didn't need father's signature to get money out of that stupid trust account that he set up (he should have just payed mum the overdue child support, he just had to make it difficult. The closest branch of the bank he did it with is almost three quaters of an hour to drive to from where we live too. B*stard.), I wouldn't be half as nice as I act around them. They think I've got an attitude problem? They don't even know the half of what I think and want to do. I hate those people. [/angry rant] Well, that's the most of what I wanted to rant about, and my eyes are starting to blurr from the aftereffects of all that junk they put in the air, so I'm going to end this entry now.
~-~-~Shadow~-~-~

P.S. The battle axe comment was made in that way because Nana gave my big brother and I a battle axe. twisted It belonged to a friend of hers, and she was visiting them and saw it, and they gave it to her, and she gave it to us. It has a black wooden handle, and it's made out of solid bronze. It has a really nifty spike on the head, a fairly normal axe blade, and a smaller, pointy axe blade out the back. Three sharp bits! It's awesome, even if it does need polishing. I love it.





 
 
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