I had typed a reasonably detailed account of last weekend, but everything went to hell and it appears not to have sent. So I will start again, only likely with a more bitter edge.

Music of the moment: Rock and Roll dreams come though, Meatloaf. I believe it's on it's fith repeat now. If tht don't say everything, I don't know what will.

I'm breaking my rule of not writing in this when it gets late too.

Alright, last friday was Zoe's 18th birthday. In Australia, that's legal to vote and drink. There was a dance floor and a DJ (Speaking of him, much waves to Livvy), so I wanted to dance. I appeared to be the only one though, baring my mother. So I just started dancing after dinner. Eventually most of the other 'young people' joined me, baring a few who shall remain nameless because I'd rather not waste anger ranting about them. So I got to dance, which is one of those things I love doing. And apparently, although I'm still incredulous about this, I was good at it. I blame it on really not giving a toss anymore. I find myself increasingly unable to really care.
Ledi continually reminded me of how much everyone hated me because 'I had a good figure', which makes me want to scream and steal the cake knife. I think I'll rant about this further on in this post.
Either way, after having glitter dumped down my pants and returning home, I had another issue to attend to- Lauren's 17 birthday. Her birthday is the day after Zoe's, see. So I went to a frienly little barbecue and finally got around to seeing the Evangelion movie (I know, It's saaad).

Throw in a comic book and record sale, and you have my weekend.

The last week has been a bit marshmallowie. If you want to know what I mean, stick a tone of marshmallows in your mouth so that you can't talk and almost can't breathe, and tell me how you feel. That's marshmallowie. Perhaps fortunantly, Neither Michelle nor Zoe was at school all that much. Midterm exams are next week, so I will be busy...

Now, my rant. I don't like being hated. It's really that simple- I don't mind if you don't like me, but why on earth would anyone go to the extreme ammounts of energy expendature to bother hating me. Seriously, I'm not worth it. But I dislike being told how much everyone hates me because 'I'm so thin' or 'I'm so this' or 'I'm so that'. 'Yes well It's allright for you. YOU can draw', 'You're thin' 'Boy's like you' (Actually, that's the biggest load of crock I've ever heard. One boy liked me. Once). Hence I detest people thinkng of me as an artist. The second you adopt that lable, you're leaving yourself open to the needy attention seekers saying 'you're a better artist then me' in some sort of vauge hope that you'll say 'Oh no, you're a far better artist then me'. And believe me, I won't say that unless I actually mean it. But even that's nothing compared to people dispising you purely because of te way you look. I'm not ugly- I know that. But I'm not pretty either- I'm nice and average. Plain. So I detest people hating me because I'm thin. It's not really fair- I went through a phase where I tried really hard to gain weight. I know that sounds stupid, so please don't laugh. At the moment, it's just the way I am. People, get over it. I think why I dislike these sorts of things most is because it implies that people are comparing themselves to me. And that's just not fair. I'm not some barbie doll people can look at and say 'Jee, my life sucks because I'm not This and this'. I know what you're doing, I find myself doing the same thing myself before I make a mental note to beat myself over the head with a brick for it. It shouldn't even be an issue- It shouldn't happen at all. Perhaps if I tried to make myself small and hide again, it wouldn't be. But I don't think I could stand doing that again- I get upset having to do it now. But It makes my life easier, and It means that less people hate me. It's really quite pathetic, I know- Of all the things to worry about, I don't want to be hated for things I can't help. If it was my personality, I could understand. I'm not a nice persn, I can accept that.

Ah well. I suppose in the end it really can't be helped. I can't change what people thing, and I can't stab them with a kitchen knife as I often wish I could. Don't freak, I would never actually attack anyone. Passive, see? Just repressed.

Enough.

"When you're alone and afraid and you're completely amazed to find there's nothing anybody can do..."
~Meatloaf 'Rock and Roll dreams come though'. I gotta stop playing that...
- posted by Washi @ 10:18 pm