It’s awful. If she would yell at me about just the issue, with reasonable statements and something to back it up, I’d be OK with it. But no, that’s not what happens. Not only does she yell at me, she also feels the need to bring up things that I’ve been doing wrong, or things I should be doing. She thinks she knows everything about the situation, but she doesn’t. Her reasons are the ones that she’s either deluded herself into believing or ones that she’s deduced from her limited view. Come on, at least let me explain myself—but no, I can’t. Her relentless shouts bombard me and cut deep, not allowing me any time to reason with her, much less even speak or even try to shield myself. What little moments of respite there are I’m left paralyzed, left to wallow in her anger. Mom, you once said that if I ever think that you’re being unfair, I should tell you, and that you’d listen to me.
I wear black/grey skinny jeans, black millitary boots that cost like £65 from republic, black/white vest top or a band tee and a real £500 leather jacket, yet people in cheap tacky £4.50 lacoste tracksuits come over and threaten to stab me coz of how I dress! Excuse me, I don’t threaten you because of how you dress so why should you do it to me? This is how I like to dress, and yes I wear tracksuits but that’s when I want to slouch about. I make an effort when I go out, do you?
It’s sad because it’s true. I know because someone that was very close to me died young, now my papa’s about to die and he’s only 70. Also, another kid in my school just died. 2011. The year of death.
I don’t think bringing your collection of pumpkins and gourds to class and having us make up names for them is what normal subs do… Maybe you should stop telling us about how you’re pregnant when you are over 50, and stick with the lesson plan!
I have a bunch of skinny, athletic friends who are always complaining about how fat they are. I just want to be like “you’re not fat, now shut up!â€
Don’t get me wrong, I think Anne Frank was cool and all, but I don’t see why we have to read the whole Diary in seventh grade. Can’t we just read the play?
I do two sports, tennis and swimming. Of course those are the sports we don’t do in PE. My teacher thinks I’m totally unathletic just because I’m not good at the sports we do in PE. Give me a break and stop giving me bad grades! I’m trying as hard as I can!
It’s Saturday or Sunday morning and I’m in bed sleeping, then my mom or dad barges into my room nagging at me, or vacuuming the floor. Couldn’t this wait? I can’t go back to sleep now.
I hate how paranoid I am. Like, seriously, I think too much about things like if I post something here about someone I’ll be like “omg what if they have an iPhone or iPod and download the same app and realize it was me that said that about them and hate me forever?†and then I like go like “oh wait, that’s kind of CRAZYâ€, but I still worry that’s gonna happen.
I was at lunch with my friend and we had chicken sandwiches, and she found something in it. Plus when you enter the cafeteria you can see sweat dripping down the lunch ladies’ faces. So now I’m bringing my own lunch every day.