my computer is lagging.

why is my computer lagging?

COS IT FRIKKIN HATES ME.

erjnfuiefwhdesefd

im still feeling itchy even after ive just bathed. howwwww irritating.

its been on my head the entire day. freeeeeeaaaaaaaakkkkkkk the stupid pfokwejficnhfer thing. ARRRRRGGGGGHHHHHH.

I NEEEEEEEEEED TOOOOOOO TAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLKKKKKKK TOOOOOOOOOOOOO SOOOMEEEEEOOOOONNNNNNNNNNEEEEEEEEEEEE

argh. what the crap man. im such an idiot. phfm.

OKAY. CHILL. had chapel today. WHOO GO TTM! you with the coolio bass. and to whoever who did the slides, your lyrics were wrong. tsktsk. no offence ah.

then had music. wah crap im gonna be assesed next term AND IM GONNA FAIL AND PULL LYDIA DOWN WITH ME [DSFJEJNEuifdamuirgkoraie junkayyyee. PFHM. IM SO STUPID. WHY AM I SO STUPID. ):<>Footsteps approach and I know it's you.

I've known it's you for the past 14 years. Those familiar footsteps. Yet that unfamiliar face.

The door opens, as it does every night. I know it's you. I can smell you a mile away. That alcoholic stench. That disgusting odour of smoke and beer that clings onto you. I know what you're about to say. It's almost as though I'm psychic. I know the lecture that is coming right at me. You will finish your first paragraph, and then take a sip out of your beer bottle.

As I predicted, everything happens.

Then you carry on with your second paragraph, occasionally stroking the covers on my bed, getting distracted by the many patterns on my quilt cover. This paragraph is about my mother.

You tell me how beautiful she was and how kind she was. Well, she must have been, to agree to marry someone like you. You tell me how clever she was, how she aced in school, how she was so popular and was invited to every hottest party of the year. I wonder if she really was as smart as you speak of her to be. How then did she end up with someone like you?

I don't understand why you still keep reminding yourself of her. She left us some 10 years ago. I wish you would forget her.

Slowly you savour the last few drops of your precious drug. You fiddle fondly at the keychain she sewed for me, which is hung on my wallet at my bedside. Then your eyes dart to my wallet.

A black wallet, modern, sleek, something every teenager my age would want. But fire starts to burn in your eyes as you glare at the lump of black cloth with hatred. You resist change, you want to keep tradition. You don't like it when new products emerge.

Suddenly, your glare is cast upon me. I can feel your hatred burning on my back. It's like an invisible flame, but a most deadly one. And so starts the third paragraph of your lecture.

You begin to criticize my looks. My eyes, my nose, my mouth, my lips, my eyes, my teeth, my hair, even the way I dress. You make me out to be the complete opposite of my mother.

It all seems scripted out and rehearsed, the exact right impact at the exact right words and moments. Like you planned it way before stepping into my boundary. It seems like a movie. Sometimes I wish I could run away. Run away from your protection, run away from your hatred, run away from your love.

I feel so restricted.

And when you finally finish your lecture, you step out, but not before knocking my head consistently against the computer screen, which you think I'm glued on to.

Then you leave.

It makes no difference to me though, whether you've come in or not. It's all a cycle anyway. It makes no difference to me. Tomorrow night, history will repeat itself and then everything will happen as though nothing has taken place.

Even after you have left the room, the tension lingers in the air and so does the odour. My head hurts from the knocking and it seems that anymore knocks and either the computer screen or my skull will crack. Well, I guess it doesn't matter either way. The hurt ebbs away after sometime.

The hurt on my head, that is.

My keyboard is suddenly wet from saltwater. That's a change in the cycle. Or is it? Maybe I just haven't really noticed it at all.

There's something else different about tonight as well.

It's suddenly raining heavily outside.

But it's cold inside.