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.