you know what sucks about me? the most i mean the utter most is that i like to make my misery seem bigger than it is. because its all i can physically make myself think about. don’t get me wrong when i’m happy i’m terrifying and loud and obnoxious but in a way that i want you to come over clap and jump around with me but you know what disrupts it? people calling me a child, immature or thinking i’m basically a kid for wanting to be happy sometimes even insinuating i’m high or drunk. now i don’t consider being a child an insult, i consider it a privilege which is what grates at my nerves. now lets be honest here i never really got to be a child, all my life has been measured and scaled in perfections and disappointments. i think i was a child for all the years that i cannot comprehend but the minute i took up more space than was previously estimated or anticipated for instance talking, having opinions i stopped being a kid and that is also accounting for the fact that i started being loud really really early. anyways when i’m happy why do i have to be reminded of how my parents hate my ways of celebration or my reasons of happiness or remind me of the childhood they owe me. you know what i fucking resent it. no kidding because i feel robbed, like something was stolen from me and its thrown at my face every time i dare find joy because they think, every body thinks i’m still in the mental state that i was never provided. now whats so great about childhood? feeling safe, protected, feeling like you don’t have to think about people’s feelings other than your own or walk on eggshells or care about anybody but yourself, above all just feeling like your parent’s favourite. so yes i resent it because all i can think about is the child who liked to sleep in the middle clinging to her parents for warmth and security only to be shaken awake not knowing the reason or the fight but having to cry because the screaming hurts the crying of people you love and know makes you sick and pick a side in the divorce that never seems to happen and only to later have them made up but your mom blaming you in the morning and upcoming days for sleeping in the middle and causing it, or hey some other nonsense reason. but its always been me so where’s the security love and kindness at folks? yeah so fuck that i’m happy not a child. and this is me focusing on the misery- shocker.
















