Self-Involvement.

People are all so self-involved. Everyone thinks that they're totally misunderstood and tragic.
Take my parents, for example. They're fighting, loudly, and not caring that my little brother is crying himself to sleep, because they're too busy proving that they're the martyr. It's maddening.
I had to go tuck him in and get his reading light and close his door so he can't hear them, and his blinds so that he doesn't wake up with the sun. And my dad's just banging on about how he brings in the money and we're a bunch of ungrateful little shits, and he made my mum cry. And I'm angry.
Most people, when they get angry, it's hot, like a fire. Instead, I get an icy coldness filling me. I know it's bad when I can't feel my face, like now.
I hate it here. I envy my sister; she gets to leave in a week.

Habits

It's funny, the little things you get used to , and don't even realize it. I had a hat sitting on top of my TV, a funny, floppy paper one that I made myself. I'm quite proud of it, and I quite like it sitting there. But the sun was getting in my eyes when I was out in it today, so I came and got my hat to ward it off. And then my TV looked weirdly empty. Strange.
It's the same with my library card. I had the same one since I was a little kid, and I'd memorized the number. But my old card cracked, so I had to get a new one, and it has a different number, and it really threw me off.
It's the same when I get a new notebook, or I move around a piece of furniture in my house, or reorganize the dish cupboard to throw off my family, and I end up throwing myself off.
I guess it's the same with habits. I tap the ledge in my stairwell on the way down it every time I come down. If I slip and go rolling down the stairs, which happens upon occasion, I have to get up and walk back up the stairs and tap the ledge. It's just one of those things.
I wonder if that transfers to the way you act. Like, if you're always a little bit sarcastically evil, are you always truly like that? Is it just a way to cover what you're actually thinking?? A way to make people laugh? Maybe give yourself some inside-my-own-head time when you're in public. And can you stop it? Can you break yourself of that habit?

Insanity??

I've been thinking a lot lately about what exactly constitutes insanity. Is it when you're walking to the bus stop carrying your shoes and talking to yourself?? Or is it when you waltz alone in your living room to Doug and the Slugs?? Or is it that little voice that you hear late and night, saying 'Is there room in your head for one more?? Or perhaps it's forgetting to eat for three days, or maybe realizing that when you sync it up right, Dark Side of the Moon seems like it's narrating The Wizard of Oz. Or perhaps it's talking on the phone while sitting on top of the washing machine. Or maybe it's when the person on the other end hangs up and you still sit there, listening to the dial tone for half an hour, thinking of nothing.
And who gets to say, really?? I mean, sometimes you have the more definable types of insane, like schizophrenia, but even that can be iffy sometimes. What if someone just seems schizo, but really they're just lonely?? Or maybe trying to get attention?? Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that schizophrenia isn't an actual condition, because it is. I'm just saying that things aren't always set in stone.
So, what do you think?? What's your definition of crazy??

Poetry

I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I'm a total poetry nut. Points go out to whoever can tell me the author of the poem below.

since feeling is first
who pays attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you

wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world

my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady i swear by all flowers. Don't cry
-the best gesture of my brain is less than
your eyelids' flutter which says

we are for eachother: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for lifes not a paragraph

and death i think is no parenthesis

What I Want

A while ago, a friend asked me what I really wanted. People are always saying what they don't want, but who really knows what they want. What they want to happen, who they want, how they want things to turn out. And I realized that I don't really know everything that I want. People are confusing, and the only thing I want is to figure them out. It's all very confusing, it feels like everything is twisting and swirling and changing around me, and I'm standing still. It's like when you're in the car and it looks like all the houses and mailboxes and what have you are moving, and you're standing still. Except that they keep twisting 360 degrees instead of just in a line on either side, and I don't know which ones I want and which can just leave, and which are gone and I want back, and I just...don't know.

Leaving

I'm listening to: Vindicated by Dashboard Confessional.

My sister is at her grad banquet right now, the last grad thing she has, before she leaves the school for good. I was taking pictures when she left, and the only thing I could think was 'God, she's so beautiful.'
Since we were little kids, my sister has been my role model, my favorite person in the world, the way I cope with living with my father. She makes me laugh when I'm sad, and dance when I'm exhausted.
My sister is everything that I want to be; confident and beautiful and talented and self-assured, and she knows who she is and where she's going. And where she's going is away. I'm so proud of her, but at the same time, I'm sad, because she's leaving. And I'm not. And I'm really going to miss her.

So, I'm supremely confused. And tired. And having guitar issues. But mostly confused. My friends have got me all twisted around. I've decided that it is the fault of males. Maybe we should just kill all the guys. And then, slowly, all the women will die, and in a hundred and seven years, we will have killed off all the humans, and only half the deaths will be murders. It's the perfect solution!! We'd be gone, and we could leave the world to another race, maybe one that wouldn't fuck it up the way we have.