I’ve been having a rather poopy day. Normally I would say that’s a matter of perception- if you choose to notice all the bad things in your day, it’s a bad day, full stop. On this occassion, those bad things I notice are the ones that make me feel either guilty, hopeless, or like breaking a piece of furniture. It’s not healthy, especially the last one.
Since I got back from… Where did I go today? Ah yes, church. I enjoyed church today. Father Steve isn’t so scary now. When I got back, Eugene told me to watch Donnie Darko. I told him I had. He asked if I had watched Fight Club. I said yes. Bad move. I had forgotten he banned me from watching it, because apparently it was a big legal thing to watch an R rated movie if you’re underaged. Personally, I thought it was a "Mature, 15+", or tops, a "Mature Audiences, 15+ or parental supervision". Still, he refused to listen to my arguementation, using an example of him watching an MA when he was 11 or 12, then making me watch it. I’ve never gotten over my phobia of wooden dolls since. Anyways, he refused to listen to me, and put me in a foul mood. I locked myself in my room.
For a while, I lay in bed, trying to cool down. Then Mum, for want of a better term, screeched at me to eat dinner. She brought it to me, and I ate it in the darkness of my room, lit only by the luminescent glow of my digital clock and CD player. I put on "Black Eyed Peas- Monkey Business", and for a while, listened to the songs. Then I just let them flow over me as I dreamed of being elsewhere.
Eugene seemed to be on speaking terms with me, two hours later when I emerged, having spent my time writing. He was looking for a clip from South Park to show me- something he found to be hilarious. When he couldn’t find it, he just ignored me and waited for me to leave. I asked him how his website was going. He snapped at me. I offered to take the phone back for charging. He rebuked me. I left, in the hopes I could use the computer before I slept.
Dad was already on it, browsing websites for guitar chords. He said he’d be ten minutes. I said I would stand behind him and wait. And I did. For ten, long minutes. When I gently interrupted him to say time’s up, he raised his voice and met me with reproval, not so much asking as telling for five more minutes. I felt very sad.
I guess I just need some chocolate, and to watch that South Park video Eugene has. Apparently, Cartmen dresses up as a retard. I don’t know. Good night, I guess.