Weet-bix

I say this very rarely. Because between feeling sorry for myself and all this studying crap, I hadn't the time. As much as I bitch about it, my life, doesn't suck that much.

I had a great childhood, minus the "upbringing" part, of course. School was a little rocky, but nonetheless bearable. And now, I'm 20. And apart from the fact that I'm 20, my life is, well, just how I hoped it would be. Money, car, apartment, clothes, decent future...

I mean, don't get me wrong, it could be better. As I've grown, I can't believe I'm saying this, older, I've learnt to handle things quite well.

They mess up, I run. The beauty of being 20 and not living with your family is that, when you don't need a family, you know you can drive 96km away and go home. Home. Let's be honest, growing up, I never had one. This room, with its crappy floor, and anything-but-comfortable bed, feels more like home than that enormous double-storey ever felt.

I've learnt to cover up all my physical imperfections, learnt to be fake, learnt to take charge, and heck. Learnt to just agree. Learnt to bottle up. Learnt to settle every problem by puncturing my lungs and widening the possibility of cancer. But most importantly, I've learnt to appreciate everything I have, this life, and evrything in it.

It's the simple things like, health, and a car, and money, and body shop, and new cardigans etc. I'm not picky, and no, I don't complain [much], as long as I earned it, I would learn to love it...

Oh my life could be perfect. In fact, it's close-to-perfect as it is. The thing is. I've got all this baggage, unwanted baggage. It took me a while to realise, all this sacrifices, and for what, just so the million people around me would feel happy. Screw that. As stupid as this sounds, I want for one second of my life, to do something for me, without worrying about wailing mothers or suicidal fathers or disturbed brothers and most definitely, pathetic peers.

No, I'm not pointing fingers. But thats only because after much trying, I've come to accept that no matter how hard I point at your facebook pictures, you're just unable to see.

Ok, I don't know where this is going. So let me sum it up. After a gazillion years of feeling unworthy for anything, anyone, I'm happy to finally, god finally, be strong enough, and stand above all of your manipulating pathethic heads, and smile and whisper silently in my heart;

"I'm just to good for all of you... Always was, and always will..."

Long gone are those dreadful days where I would curl up in my bed, screaming silently at god for the imaginary burdens imposed. I don't glare at the advertisements for other universities [private of course] and literally ache seeing the life I could have had, I don't burst out bawling with tears everytime I see images of the life that has been unkindly opressed from me. I don't bow my head just because a zit decided to plant itself on my face.

But baggages. These, well, "things", pulling me down, dragging me along with their somber lives, how the hell do I get rid of them.

MUST. IMPROVE. SELF. LEARN. TO. SAY. FUCKING. NO. DIE. BITCH.

DIE.