kill them with kindness.

nineteen. heart of glass. wild at heart♥
Que Sera, Sera.

I really love cheese, Edward Norton, ice cream, raspberry Slurpee, my dog Chocolate Chip, zombies, old films, GT-Rs, AE86's, Fight Club, The Beatles and the color Ruby.

This is not my personal blog.

half empty,

So in the midst of the argument between my mom and I, she tells me that the reason why I’m so bad is because no one stays home and take care/watch out for me to teach me anything. And at first, the idea of not having someone nag at you, or discipline you sounds good because you get to do whatever you want so you don’t realize the perks of it, but now I do. I feel as if I’m one of those kids who get things so their love can be bought because their parents don’t spend enough time with them at home since they feel remorseful for their absence. Those parents that start showering their kids with gifts to avoid that emptiness in their life. I don’t want that. I want someone who will be there for me and take care of me, someone I can depend on or come to when I’m in some sort of trouble. Shouldn’t I feel as if I have my sisters or my mom to guide and protect me since I’m the youngest? But I do have the mentality of an 80 year old women. Sometimes I don’t want to be mature for my age because the more you know the more you understand; but the more you understand, the more you also take in reality. I feel like growing up I endured everything on my own emotionally and they just provide me with the material necessities. I feel so lonely sometimes and I don’t even know who I can go to for help. It’s enough that I feel like a burden asking people for help but shouldn’t I feel less of a burden to people that I’m close to? I always feel like I’m doing it all by myself. Growing up that is. That’s the reason why I love family time, because I feel the safest with them. Like how things used to be. Now when the sun comes down, everyone leaves to their destination and I lay at home feeling rather empty and bitter; collected to myself in a nutshell. The next day is a new day, with me, myself, and I. I may be tough all the time and I’m stubborn, but when it comes to family…that’s where it hurts the most. Because to be honest, sometimes I’m just so tired of taking care of myself that I wish someone took care of me and told me it’s going to be okay because I’m not alone in this.

Truth be told, by the end of the day, I will always be alone in this.