| Rants |
| My rants generally come about when I'm feeling particularly depressed or pissed off and I need to vent. Sometimes I'm just bored and randomly write, but they're usually just very angry ramblings. |
| To cry... Contemplating my greatness and praising my wins, I forgot to remind myself of my imperfections and remember there's a chance that I might lose. A big ego is the last thing I need at the moment. The one thing I do need is to be alone and to think. I can't be alone. The people I love, my friends, keep following. The one that I want to have follow me is absent, leaving a deep void in my heart. I need to cry but I can't. I have to be strong to keep on going, and to cry would be weak. TO CRY WOULD BE WEAK. I have to remind myself of this as tears threaten to overflow. Never me I'll never amount to anything. I'll just be another lawyer, or biologist, or doctor. Indian chief. Clerk. Esthetician. I'll be the person in the background. Part of the crowd. The on in last. Strnagely enough, this doesn't sadden me. I won't have to worry about the outcome, because I know I'll come in last no matter what. You can count on Caitlin to come last. Rain or shine, summer or winter. Weekday, weekend, morning, noon, night. Never get the gold. Never get the jon. Never get the guy, the dog, the prize. Always last. Someone else's anthem will be played, someone else will carry their flag on their back. I'll be the reporter, grovelling at their feet for one more juicy story, one more clip of their smiling, shiny, happy face. One more shot of them kissing my medal. No, their medal. Not mind. Never mine. Always someone else's I'm not bitter. Someone else can be bitter. I have no time. Too busy. Busy being last. Coming last takes energy. You can't just not try. You have to lose with a flair. A bold loser is much better than a lazy loser. No one is entertained by someone who doesn't at least try. It's easy to lose by not winning, but it's hard to lose by losing. Never mine. Always someone else. Never my colours, my anthem, my flag, never my name picked, never me picked first for teams. I can't play. I have no feeligs. Pick Ms. Olympic Gold. I don't care. Never me. Insecurity (September 13, 2001) Always I wish I were the most loved person. You know the ones. The person who gets at least a hello and always a smile from everyone they see in the halls. I try and hang out with the drama posse and make friends but oftentimes I'm too shy to dive in. Yes yes, I know... You're thinking how could I possibly be shy? Me, the one who can always be seen smiling and bouncing about with happiness and hyperness. Well I do feel shy inside, and I hesitate when I approach them. Them being the drama posse. To me they have always been "them". They seem to be such a close-knit circle of inside jokes and fooling around that I can barely approach them, let alone act tru to myself and show them the real me. "The real Caitlin". Does that even exist? Is there a real me or am I just a bundle of bouncing smiles who wishes she could be so funny. Yes I am insecure though most of my friends, maybe even all of them, think that I'm so confident and cool, secure as me. Well I'm not. That same Caitlin you see bouncing about really is insecure inside. Bitter Confusion (January 8, 2003) Ted says I'm like two different people when I'm with him and when I'm with my friends. The "me" with him is mellow and calm, while the "me" with my friends is hyper and annoying. That really hurts. The hyper me is a huge part of who I am. He said he loves the mellow me, not the hyper me. How can he love me when he doesn't want to be around me when I'm just being myself? How can you love only a part of someone? Is that even possible? I would think it's as possible as it is to write this through tears, heavy sobs, and one of my monstrous crying-headaches. How can you love someone but hate a part of who they are? Bitter Anger (January 9, 2003) I'm so fucking tired of not knowing what the fuck is with us. He says he doesn't want to hang out with me at school cause of my friends and the way I act around them. So I spend a bit more time with the drama people and he still ignores me. Fuck! Does he even care about our relationship? I don't want to cry over this for the second night in a row. I don't want to be in a relationship that makes me feel this way. I don't want to have to break up with the guy I love. Frustration (January 11, 2003) I still don't know what the fuck's going on with us. We both basically ignore each other at school and then never see each other weekdays. This is so frustrating. I love him to bits and he hates part of me. I see him five days a week at school and we rarely say a word to each other til we're on the phone at night. Furthermore, we haven't even talked on the phone since the 8th, when he told me that shit about hating the hyper me. Dreams God it makes me so mad when people stomp on other people’s dreams, tell them they’re not worth it, they won’t do anything in life. Who the fuck are they to tell someone that? How the fuck do they know what’s inside that person, what their dreams are and what they mean. They don’t know enough to make a single judgement, let alone put someone down for having a dream that’s “not good enough”. Fuck that. That’s fucking bullshit. If anyone tells me that I’m not doing anything in life, that I’m not going anywhere, I’m telling them to fuck off. Only I can know what my dreams are worth, and only I can decide what to do with myself. I’m worth just as much as anyone else, if not more than the fuckers who judge others for being different. So I say fuck them all. My dreams are worth it. Fuck (July 9, 2003) I just got an e-mail from Justin, and he's coming back tomorrow, not today. Fuck, isn't everything in my life just peachy fucking keen right now? I've been waiting for today for seven and a half days of painful loneliness, only to find out I have to wait yet another fucking day. Brit and I have had our first fight ever and it's all my fault. Her house is being auctioned off and she obviously needed to talk about it, and I made some stupid fucking comment about living in a cardboard box. Like that's really what she needs right now. I signed off and later apologised on myfamily but she hasn't replied yet. Either she's too angry at me, or she hasn't read it yet. Either way I'm so fucking worried that my visit will be called off. I've been wanting to meet her for three fucking long years, and I'm not gonna have my frist chance ruined cause I made a fucking joke about her losing her house, which she loves. Fuck, I hate waiting to see people! I've had enough of sitting around. I'm too fucking tired of crying. I promised mom I'd do some English today and I can barely stop the tears, let alone concentrate on the French Revolution in A Tale of Two Cities, or why Daisy's self-image changes in the car on the ride to the farm. I DON'T GIVE A FUCK! I just wrote an essay telling these assholes that their system of teachig is silly and ineffectual. Fuck it all! I can't stay here but I don't have anywhere better to go. FUCK FUCK FUCK! Second-hand Baby (July 22, 2003) The other day I was walking into Wal-Mart and I saw this man standing outside with his baby girl sitting on the little shelf in his shopping cart. I was smiling at the cute baby when I noticed that the man was smoking, not a foot away from his daughter! I was so disgusted I could barely even look at the kid, let alone the man. I guess he didn't realise that he was blowing some really nasty shit at his small child.... I'm sure she was enjoying breathing in unfiltered nail polish remover (Acetone), rat poison (Hydrogen cyanide), cockroach killer (Nicotine), rocket fuel (Hydrazine), and embalming fluid (Formaldehyde). Mmmm... "Public health officials have concluded that secondhand smoke from cigarettes causes disease, including lung cancer and heart disease, in non-smoking adults, as well as causes conditions in children such as asthma, respiratory infections, cough, wheeze, otitis media (middle ear infection) and Sudden Infant Death Syndrome." I'm not saying I abhor any person who smokes around anyone else. It's not my place to judge people for their actions as long as they don't negatively effect others without a choice. That's the key: choice. When a non-smoking adult stands around to chat with someone who's smoking instead of walking away, that's their choice. When a small child sits in a cart while her father stands right in front of her and smokes, that's another thing entirely. Unless that kid piped up and told her dad that it was alright to expose her to potential disease-inducing chemicals, it's just wrong. Until kids can fully understand what breathing in second-hand smoke can mean, no one should be allowed to smoke anywhere near them. |