If a robber is caught by the police, but the person he robbed from didn’t want to press charges, would it be fair to the other people he had stolen from? If a mayor’s daughter was murdered, and the mayor insists on putting all the police efforts on catching the killer, would it be fair to the other families whose loved ones were murdered by other people?

There are rules against this, of course. But the human component of insistence, persistence, cunning, and that particular habit of picking which rules apply to oneself steps in to ensure that one gets what one desires. It is this very thing that fucking pisses me off.

How can one stay objective and fair if things are taken into personal account? How can one’s judgment not be clouded when personal “feelings” are at stake (especially that most annoying thing called pride)? Every little thing is a personal matter in one way or another.

I am so incredibly confused and annoyed.

You know what? Fuck you and your hypocrisy.

On another note, I’m exploding weeks of frustration/anger/shit on you. Be flattered.

So when Mother told me to get something for her, my legs failed me when I tried to stand up. My arms flailed to try to get some balance, my right leg crumpled, and my left leg tried to hook onto one of my chair’s armrests. Like I was on the monkey bars. >_> My left inner thigh caught on the sharp corner of the armrest and I fell to the floor anyway.

It hurts!! I have to make a conscious effort to not brush my legs together. And now I look so stupid when I walk. D:

Urg. I’m either absent-minded or too preoccupied to pay attention to where my limbs are flailing, apparently. I was painting my mother’s bowling shirt to make it prettier and more colorful with vines and flowers. So absorbed in my task was I that I banged both my knees on the table leg twice. Twice. I would think that I was mindful enough to avoid it but apparently once I am painting, I think of nothing else.

Bah.

It’s not only the table that is my enemy. I knock into my chair fairly often that I have bruises on my elbows. And there’s the kitchen counters coloring my hips purple and yellow. I’m like a walking accident sometimes that a friend would ask me if I got into a fight from the amount of bruises I can manage to get on a mindless or preoccupied day.

My bed should be my sanctuary free from harm. Unfortunately it seems to hold a grudge seeing as it gave me a really big bruise on my leg when I slipped and stumbled against it. This was two weeks ago, and the bruise is only just fading away right now.

OH WELL. I’ll live.

However, this reminds me of the song Bruises by Chairlift.

Simply because of the bruises part, of course.

I lack the experience and knowledge to fuel more than three quarters of my multiple plots. I have so much I want to do beyond simply reading about things like scent-detection or the subtle magic of creating perfumes. My brainstorming thoughts are becoming more disjointed and more vague by the week. If I keep this up, for sure I will lose yet another skill I’ve striven to culture since childhood.

Yes. I know I am holding myself back. I don’t know why; paranoia, maybe…that incorrigible niggling in your gut that feeds the darkness and despair in your mind that tells you how useless you are to even bother trying.

Some days I just want to let it all out and scream like a madwoman. I feel so stifled by my own inadequacies and expectations, so used to getting things right the first time. I have a certainty that this frustration will one day kill me. I just know it.

This isn’t the reason why I can’t sleep, although it plays a small part. I am thoroughly convinced that my brothers are plotting my death, or are waiting for me to snap, or kill myself. I don’t think I’ll give them the satisfaction. So instead of being rudely awakened at an ungodly hour for the third day in a row, I am simply staying up.

..and I will crash in the middle of the day.

Yes. 4am is an ungodly hour for a person who indulges in sleep.

would of/could of
they’re/their
you’re/your
grammer

I’m too irked to remember typos.

Video 1. Video 2.

Don’t get me wrong. I love my monitor. It’s huge, it gives me a lot of freedom to fiddle with things.. heck, it allows me to tile my windows side by side and not feel crowded or cramped. I adore it.

If only it would stop spazzing. It starts without warning, goes on for hours on end, and then stops. I can barely do anything much less keep my eyes on the screen without suffering some sort of epileptic seizure or headache. HP has no solutions. It makes me sad.

I want a new monitor. (This one’s barely a year old, come on. ;_; )