Teenage Angst Strikes Once Again!

I just want to rant. Online. To kick it up a notch. From personal to public.

What am I to do with this teenage angst? Everything from the past 7, 5, 6–FUCK, I can’t count now….


From the past 6 years, I’ve bundled in my extreme emotions, thoughts, feelings into this ugly woven ball that no kitty would be proud to own. And now… I’m seeing the ball untangle and roll out its unsightly discoloration.

You know those rainbow knitting balls?

My rainbow ball of life

My string would start out white for birth, purity, innocence, buried deep in the grasp of the trailing line. The line ravels out yellow for 4 or 5 yards, bright red for a whip as I discover my fifth grade crush… orange for confusion when the best friend transfers to the rival middle school.

Dammit, internet. I just wanted to get this stupid blog thing started. “Please choose between themes: Flat, Padhang, Twenty Fourteen…” “Hero” it is! Best fits my present state: dark, solemn, blunt. The “ease” and time I put into making this blog really belittles my damn anger. 


So that string would eventually hit dark royal blue, a few shades off from 000000 black. Just centimeters up from the bright shades of middle school. This is where I experience thoughts which we like to describe as “suicidal”.

Haha, oh you’re thinking, “Wait, don’t tell me this is another ‘misunderstood’ kid who complains about life because it just didn’t go her way.”

In a sense, yes. This blog will be about number of eye-rolls and name-callings I can manage from my vain stepmother before I feel the need to slap the 64-year-old Scottish accent out of her contumelious lips. But, alas, your first impressions will reshape as you stick with me through the test of time.

Well, for the next few years or so until I give up writing to an empty audience on-the-line.

This site won’t only display my toils and potty-mouth-thoughts. I’ll parade my accomplishments and express my gratitude for life just as well. There should be a balance to things.

Right now, I’m about to flip out and I’ve created this space to release myself. You’re invited into my world. If you leave it is my fault for I failed to entertain you. But that is not my concern. I’m taking steps to reinvent myself. I need to start thinking straight. I’m only trying to thwart this bullet of insanity as it creeps into and shrouds my thoughts whenever the trigger has been set off. Set off by the one person who I cannot bear: my step-mother.


My desk's mood today: fuck you.

My desk for today


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