Post by yikez itz kaitlyn on May 9, 2009 6:33:33 GMT -5
TITLE: Dazed and Confused
GENRE: I guess it's a drama... Kind of. There's not any physical drama in it, but still.
CRITIQUE: Yes
STATUS: Complete
SUMMARY: Just a ramble in the eyes of a misplaced teenager.
OTHER: I hope you like it =]
Sometimes it’s as if my parents are trying to ruin my life. Other times, I know they’re just doing what they feel is right. But, they don’t always consider what I think is right. Doesn’t my opinion count, too? I mean, sure, I love them. I respect them, too. But, I mean, come on; a child should have a right to make their own decisions, no matter whether it’s good or bad. That’s how we learn. We make mistakes and we learn from it. Some of us do, anyways.
I don’t blame my parents, actually. I know I’m not the most trustworthy child, but what child is? My parents let my older sister do pretty much whatever she pleased. She ended up pregnant at like fifteen years old and she doesn’t even take care of the kid. My parents do. I help out a lot, too. Claire isn’t responsible. I’m at least that much. Maybe she’s the reason my parents are so uptight.
I think all parents have trust issues with their kids. It doesn’t necessarily mean that they don’t trust their kids. But, I mean like, they aren’t sure if their kid can handle something. Stuff like that. I can handle most of the things my parents expect of me, but they always think I’ll mess up. I show them exactly how much of a screw up I can be, just because of that.
I’m changing. A lot. I’m not as bad as I used to be, but I do get a lot more annoyed with their constant nagging. I’m responsible of the dishes. I know that’s only one chore, but I get so mad when someone says that the dishes weren’t done right or if they aren’t done by a certain time. If they want to have something perfect, why can’t they do it on their own? They aren’t helpless. There’s two other people in this house that can pitch in.
My oldest brother is a druggie. He’s messed up so bad he doesn’t know where he is half the time. My oldest sister is autistic, so she really can’t do anything. Claire’s older than me by two years and she’s the most irresponsible person in the world. You can’t trust her to do anything for anyone unless it benefits herself. My younger siblings are three, two, and the twins are eighteen months.
I don’t mean to be a complete drag, but sometimes I just get so fed up with everything that goes on in my life. Sometimes I wish I’d been born into a different family. I know that’s insensitive, but it’s true. I hate that I’m the only one that is pushed around to do things. It’s like everyone else is more important. That’s how I’m treated sometimes. Like I’m not as important as everyone else. Of course, I know the little ones are most important, but still.
I envy all of my friends. Their parents seem perfect. Hannah’s parents don’t question her on why she was in after curfew. Charlotte’s parents don’t yell at her, even when she’s in major trouble. Tahlia’s parents… Well, she doesn’t really have parents. She’s been in and out of foster homes since she was seven months old. Her foster parents don’t care about her at all, so I guess I have it better than her… But, still.
Maybe all of this is some kind of message. Maybe someone or something is trying to tell me that it’s not always about the things you want. Like more freedom. Everyone wants freedom, but they can’t always have it. Maybe I’m getting a message, telling me that I can’t have what I want all the time, no matter how bad the craving is.
GENRE: I guess it's a drama... Kind of. There's not any physical drama in it, but still.
CRITIQUE: Yes
STATUS: Complete
SUMMARY: Just a ramble in the eyes of a misplaced teenager.
OTHER: I hope you like it =]
Sometimes it’s as if my parents are trying to ruin my life. Other times, I know they’re just doing what they feel is right. But, they don’t always consider what I think is right. Doesn’t my opinion count, too? I mean, sure, I love them. I respect them, too. But, I mean, come on; a child should have a right to make their own decisions, no matter whether it’s good or bad. That’s how we learn. We make mistakes and we learn from it. Some of us do, anyways.
I don’t blame my parents, actually. I know I’m not the most trustworthy child, but what child is? My parents let my older sister do pretty much whatever she pleased. She ended up pregnant at like fifteen years old and she doesn’t even take care of the kid. My parents do. I help out a lot, too. Claire isn’t responsible. I’m at least that much. Maybe she’s the reason my parents are so uptight.
I think all parents have trust issues with their kids. It doesn’t necessarily mean that they don’t trust their kids. But, I mean like, they aren’t sure if their kid can handle something. Stuff like that. I can handle most of the things my parents expect of me, but they always think I’ll mess up. I show them exactly how much of a screw up I can be, just because of that.
I’m changing. A lot. I’m not as bad as I used to be, but I do get a lot more annoyed with their constant nagging. I’m responsible of the dishes. I know that’s only one chore, but I get so mad when someone says that the dishes weren’t done right or if they aren’t done by a certain time. If they want to have something perfect, why can’t they do it on their own? They aren’t helpless. There’s two other people in this house that can pitch in.
My oldest brother is a druggie. He’s messed up so bad he doesn’t know where he is half the time. My oldest sister is autistic, so she really can’t do anything. Claire’s older than me by two years and she’s the most irresponsible person in the world. You can’t trust her to do anything for anyone unless it benefits herself. My younger siblings are three, two, and the twins are eighteen months.
I don’t mean to be a complete drag, but sometimes I just get so fed up with everything that goes on in my life. Sometimes I wish I’d been born into a different family. I know that’s insensitive, but it’s true. I hate that I’m the only one that is pushed around to do things. It’s like everyone else is more important. That’s how I’m treated sometimes. Like I’m not as important as everyone else. Of course, I know the little ones are most important, but still.
I envy all of my friends. Their parents seem perfect. Hannah’s parents don’t question her on why she was in after curfew. Charlotte’s parents don’t yell at her, even when she’s in major trouble. Tahlia’s parents… Well, she doesn’t really have parents. She’s been in and out of foster homes since she was seven months old. Her foster parents don’t care about her at all, so I guess I have it better than her… But, still.
Maybe all of this is some kind of message. Maybe someone or something is trying to tell me that it’s not always about the things you want. Like more freedom. Everyone wants freedom, but they can’t always have it. Maybe I’m getting a message, telling me that I can’t have what I want all the time, no matter how bad the craving is.
xoxo Dazed and Confused
