We are stars fashioned in the flesh and bone.
Life hurts, everything is getting worse I fear. Everyday another thing burdens me, and today’s burden is more than I may weigh.
My Mother is cheating again. It hurts my entire soul. She goes there whenever she feels, and when she comes home she expects us to have open arms. Its difficult to love the one in which holds a knife to your chest.
I got home from Brian’s and my father was drinking singing karaoke watching the 49er’s play the Giants. We lost, and after the game he started holding me against the couch begging me to show him where Sam lives. It broke my heart, it broke everything inside of me.
I later walked by myself down the ghetto areas of Denair until I reached his doorstep. I could hear music playing as I knocked a few times on the door. He answered and invited me in, and there she was… sprawled out on the couch, high and with beer in hand.
I talked her into coming home, and she blamed everything upon me. We reach the house and she’s screaming through her tears, as am I. ”You caused a scene”, “You’re never even home! Why do you care?”… Her words pained me like a dull razor tugging upon the skin… Trying to break the surface.
I need you Mom, I need you.
She’s eating in the Living Room, and to my surprise I do not feel any better with her here. I don’t know what else to do, how to express myself. I have no one in which understands me. I’m all alone. Brian’s not here, Stephanie also.
I’m sitting here, and tears are forming within my eyes. I try to think of the good things, but they are not apparent in times like these.
Ryan Reynolds (Only in Amityville Horror)
Garret Dillahunt (Only in The Last House On The Left)
I’m truly happy I have not yet missed tonight’s eleven-eleven because I have an entire list on a college ruled binder paper front to back of the things I am planning to wish for this fine night.
Stephanie and I are friends again, I don’t recall how this came to play but it did. It was pathetic to attempt not being friends after six years being best friends. Til’ death do us part I’m afraid. For good or for bad, we are with each other.
Brian is at work and I am bored at home. My Brother is making pancakes but I have a little hunch he is making one for me because my Mother told him I was craving pancakes before she went off to bed. His Fiance Stefani Pinston might be coming down from Kentucky, which pleases me because they have been dating for four years and he has not met her.
If she doesn’t come down, and this is another one of her false alarms I might as well buy a sniper riffle so zoomed I can shoot her from Kentucky. Wouldn’t that be lovely? I just do not want my Brothers emotions played with, as they have been for the past four years. *Sigh*
I was correct. The pancakes were for me. They are sitting on my knee doing a balancing act while multitasking to burn me. I refuse to move the plate because I am lazy, and the burn becomes numb after how long its been there.
The pancakes are dry. Its the thought that counts. I feel like giving him a hug, but he acts bashful when I do things like that.