you know what i hate?

i hate it, when people think i’m a total ditz. when my groups of friends just keep making fun of me, because it seems like i’m an airhead, and i’m never thinking with my brain most of the time. they think i’m some stupid bitch, who never has any opinions or “smart” and “intelligent” thoughts, that i only know how to play and have fun, and laugh uncontrollably. like my life is so fucking simple, because i don’t have a fucking care in the world. i mean… sure i may be pretty clueless, naive, or sometimes ditzy, but still. i’m not a fucking ditz or an airhead. i HAVE a brain, i HAVE a mind, i HAVE opinions, and i am NOT afraid to speak them out loud.

i hate it, when people think i’m not mature, because i don’t have a job, i don’t pay taxes, and i don’t have my driver’s license yet. your maturity, isn’t fucking based on those material things. it’s based on your state of mind, and the thoughts, ideas, opinions that you hold on certain issues, or life in general. just because i don’t have a job, i don’t pay taxes, i don’t have my driver’s license, doesn’t mean i’m not allowed to speak my mind, and i can’t give my point of view on issues. it doesn’t mean, my opinion doesn’t matter, and what i think isn’t important.

fuck fuck fuck. behind this goddamn face and those clueless utterances of “Huh?” that i make sometimes, and the absent-minded daze that i enter sometimes, i have a fucking brain. i have a fucking point of view. i have fucking opinions. i might be afraid to speak them sometimes, but that doesn’t mean, that i don’t have any at all. so back. the. fuck. off.

i hate it, when you think you’re close to someone. but then slowly, gradually, after a while, you realize just how distant you were from them. you thought you were important to them, and that you really mattered to them, and they actually cared about you, but in the end… it was all in your head. you made it all up, and they really don’t give a shit about you. they don’t give a fuck if you’re okay or not, if you’re actually there for them or not. you don’t matter in their goddamn life, and if you cry about it and break down… well, they’re certainly not going to be the ones comforting you about it, and patting you on the back. and you know what, that’s what hurts the most. that you thought they were there for you, and they had your back, but in the end, you were just assuming, and jumping ahead of yourself. hah.

last of all…

i hate it, when i get mad at things. i feel as though, every time i get mad, it’s because of something unnecessary, and i’m doing something horrible. because every time i get mad, i feel so goddamn selfish and self-centered, like i’m not thinking about anything or anybody other than myself. who am i, to get mad at them or whatever? where do i get that right? i really don’t know.