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How long have I waited for this day? Friday. The end of school; the beginning of Spring Break.

Sometimes I feel like I'm in an on-going trance. I stare at the same things that bother me. Same things that make me happy and excited. Same things I do over and over again, and yet I still don't see the mistake. Same things that I am confused about. It's the same thing.

Isn't that what prolonged school hours does to you?

At least, that's what it does to me. Looking at my tired eyes and unspirited self, I feel sick.. as if I haven't slept in a week. I am tired though. Tired sick of school and everything related to it. There are some people that I love, which are my friends and my Lit teacher.. but the rest are so overbearing that I can not stand another second suffocating within my place. We all have this set place in school, a status. And I do not like mine. I do not belong.

I feel so weak. I cannot resist temptations. I give in so easily.. if given a slightly valid reason for the easier way, I'd go. If my mind is already set toward something, I would not back down.. (sigh)

Yet, I feel so strong when talking with my friends. Giving advice. Because then, I am in control of them. They're listening. I feel like they listen to me more than I listen to myself.. At least, they take it more seriously than I ever could about anything I say.

Sometimes, though, it's better not to say anything. Why would I bother when everything I say is disregarded? I would not say anything at all, but I love talking too much. Oh, they do allow me to speak.. but there is no point if all they do is think I am wrong.. that their opinion is always right over mine? Yes. I'm talking about my parents.

It's not always like this. I guess I've learned to develop an opinion that's not so wrong anymore. It just happens to contradict their ideas. IS that my fault? I want to say what I want to say. Isn't that the reason that I'm here, writing this? Because I can write anything that I want. I don't know when it became such a daily chore on here; but I need to write. Write the things that I can't say. Because I've said too little.. and those few spoken words were still unsatisfying to my ears.

I've been working on the Comatised Design, my online portfolio. I'm not anywhere near finished... I only have the layout semi-done. But you can see it here or something. I keep messing up, so it doesn't look so great. Oh well, it'll do. Its just that the more I stare at it, the more wrong it looks. I already find faults as it is. Maybe I should have used the Xara3D X thing.. but I'm stubborn and I am not content with toying with something that I am not familiar with.. especially since I still have to figure the whole thing out. So I'm not bothering with it.. at least, not until I have the essential energy; after I've slept for twelve hours. Bliss, that is.

I don't want to write anymore. My darling Mother killed the spirit anyway. I think I probably scream more at myself than she ever did, but I'm allowed to torture myself this way because I know what I am thinking; I know what I am doing. She doesn't. She doesn't know anything. But then I know that if she didn't get to me first, I would.

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