lintelsoups (lintelsoups) wrote,

Wondering When This Would Come In Handy

I am just so worried about everything. For one, my dad finding out. If he were to find out, I think we'd be screwed on getting out of here. So that can NOT happen.
Of course I'm worried about something insane happening. On the bus, or getting to the bus. Or, being trapped out in the middle of the United States, because god knows what happened. We could get robbed, or one of us gets murdered.
I think just one of us getting murdered or injured would be worse than both of us. If we're both dead, there's nothing left to worry about.
A lot of people would tell me to focus on the good stuff. Anytime I've ever done that, something bad has happened. I don't want to risk it. I'd much rather just watch my back until it's over with. I don't think it'll be that much longer. I only have a few more days to endure this shit.
That is killing me, though. I still have four days to go with all this weighing on me. And I can't do a damn thing. Not just doing something about all of this, but I can't do anything it seems. I've had to send off all my stuff. I can't go online what so ever. It's like waiting in a holding cell.
But I guess that's the price I pay for getting out of here.

I just hope nothing happens until I'm long gone. When this is all over with, then shit can blow up. Not now. Too bad there is no way to control what goes on in my universe. This is my life. I should be able to have some fucking say in it.

What a shame that if I ever asked for something like this, I'd be told no, flat out. And I know it - because I asked before. Nothing but rejection. It's not like I was asking for someone to help me cover up murder. I just want to move out. That's all.


Yesterday, I went into the bathroom and there was a squirrel. That wasn't so bad. Today, I go in, and there's some kind of wasp.
And this is the kind of thing that gets shrugged off as if there's nothing wrong with that statement. I should just laugh that there is a huge fucking flying bug with a stinger that could have attacked me. This should all just be a big joke to me, apparently. I shouldn't be so fucking serious about walking into the bathroom and being harmed.


^That's all stuff from before we even moved. Just had to get that out of my system or something. Not sure.

Good news: I'm writing. YAY.

Bad news: Is it crazy of me to want to be an actress/director/writer; any combination of the three, actually? Also, is it crazy of me to go out of my way to attain such things?
Tags: text only boo, thoughts are bad things

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