Today is the 29th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. I should know. I had a report on it for my final last year. Funny how that works. Now it's stuck in my head forever until I forget again.
I know I will. I always forget. It's a symptom. My ******-up head is destroying my memory.
I can remember basic things, but I forget things that occur. I don't remember what I ate for dinner yesterday. I don't remember what I talked to Blake about yesterday, so I don't remember why he's mad at me.
It *****. It makes me come off as uncaring when I forget these details about somebody. That's probably why she sees me as uncaring. That's not true. I do care about her. It's difficult to express for me.
I was raised in a way that didn't include the teaching of sympathy or empathy. I know this sounds horrible, but if my dad left, I wouldn't be sad. I wouldn't be happy either, but I wouldn't be sad. He's already shown what he thinks of me.
I've never good enough. I get a 4.0 for a semester and a 3.9 the rest of the year and I need to "try harder". He's always telling me, "you're not trying," or "you're not listening", and I hate it.
How would he know about what I think and feel? He's not me. He's set on me being this perfect ******* angel child that I can never be. He tells me that I'll never be able to pursue an art career and should focus more on studying than drawing.
I don't care. I WILL be an artist. I don't care how long it takes. I'll be an artist and shove it in his face when I have my own studio and open a gallery.
**** the nonbelievers. I can fly planes AND draw. Just watch me. If I don't off myself by then.