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So random spurts of creativity are coming at around three o'clock in the morning *laughs*, I'll try and remember that for later. Sometimes these feelings of half-hearted hopelessness will overcome me about a situation and I'll just start thinking 'Oh... Oh, well, whatever, I suppose it was bound to happen.' It's been happening to ma a lot lately. For instance, I get this feeling my nephews going to take my couch (where I sleep), though he normally sleeps on the bed with my mother and my street sister. I can feel it happening as it's happening. I'm not really mad or resentful, but I do feel a little upset, and a little hopeless. Then I kind of hated myself for feeling that way and realized I should just accept whatever's going to happen because I'm old enough that I shouldn't be acting this spoiled and immature about a goddamn piece of furniture. It's not as if I could ever love the piece of crap I'm sitting on more than my nephew, right? Right. So why am I all irritated? I guess I just don't like losing my space.
Just now I lost my phone, I knew it had fallen off the entertainment center (which is beside my couch against the wall), and was probably somewhere on the floor. I don't really know why I didn't pick it up at the time it fell, but I didn't. Anyway, I couldn't find it, and I'm in an odd situation, where everyone but nephew and I is dead asleep again, he's going off because he wants to watch something specific on TV and I can't find the remote. So I think, well, I have an app for that on my phone why not... Wait, where's my phone? I ended up reorganizing everything just to find it, but it was that feeling again, that propelled me forward with a kind of fuzzy irritation that didn't blossom into being fully irritated or frustrated. Just an, oh well, I guess this has to be done as I'm pulling out the couch, moving the TV and entertainment center around. When I did find it, it wouldn't connect to the TV which it normally does without complaint. That feeling again, that hopeless, restless feeling that burns and tingles and is fleeting as hell but there are no words for. I figured it out, it's fine, I'm fine, my nephew's fine, and I decided to write it all down.
The first reason is because my subconscious probably connected the fact that the -everyone drop dead and leave the aunt to baby-sit- happened yesterday and ended with me writing, and it was happening again, so it made sense to feel like repeating the action again. I'm not expecting different results, I'm not insane *laughs*.
The second reason is likely along the same lines as the first. I experienced a pretty specific emotion and feeling yesterday that overwhelmed my mood and became word vomit pretty easily. I felt something just as profound today, so why not put metaphorical pen to paper about something I've already written about once?
It's kind of lethargic, doing this. I mean, I have a huge family . Which means absolutely no privacy, if my mom or my brothers, or my sisters piss me off, we either fight or just bury it because what the hell else can we do. But here I can say whatever I want to, I can be as bitchy as I want and the only people who're going to judge me are... Well, Casper basically, since he's the only one who's ever going to read it *laughs*.
Ah, I don't really have anything else to say about today. Oh! That isn't true, over the past few weeks my brother and my street-sister have been really pissing me off! Wow, I've been suffocating my feelings about this for so long I almost forgot I was even feeling anything about the situation at all *laughs*. So, my oldest brother has a mental disability, one which he kind of uses to his advantage sometimes, or at least that's how I feel. Well, I just lost my blankets to my mom and my street-sister, and it's going to be cold tonight... I'm glad I have warm clothes at least. During the day, aforementioned street-sister and eldest brother got into a fight about 420 stuff-- there are medical cards, people, don't get worked up. We don't have much money, and... wait, let's give them nicknames, um, Nectarse, like nectar and arse put together. Yup, that should be fine, for the street-sister, and then eldest bro can be ********. Perfect! On with the story, ******** says he's got the more important medical issues so it doesn't make sense why Nectarse gets to hog all of the 420 stuff. Nectarse on the other hand says that ******** smokes it like an addict, whereas she actually has a job, and pays for it so ******** him anyway.
Nectarse goes on to hide and be sly about the 420 stuff, going so far as to conspire with the mom (who we'll keep right on calling mom, she doesn't really require a nickname) about it. ******** gets paranoid, he's smart enough to deduce on his own what's going on, and resents the people involved. Now I'm technically involved because I see what's going on and I don't say s**t to him. Why don't I just tell him, you ask? It'll end in a fistfight if I do. Right now ******** suspects without any proof, if he gets proof he's going to yell and scream, and when asked who the snitch was? Well, he won't hesitate to say it was me because he'll assume if I'm siding with him, I'm siding with him all the way. Truth is, I don't want to be a part of it at all, I don't want any of the drama. But by keeping myself to myself I'm essentially siding with them, because I'm in the same room. I feel shitty about the whole thing, but there's nothing I can really do. I pity ******** because of what's going on, and resent him for many things that happened in the past. I'm really mad at Nectarse for putting me in this position, and for being a d**k to ********, but they're a better person than ******** and I don't want to be a snitch... Hooray!
Something strange just happened as I was writing this, my mom woke up, started to do the laundry, and brought up a box of s**t from the laundry room. Because our laundry room has an area people leave stuff they're giving away, I don't completely understand it, but it's quite nice. Anyway, we're looking through these old CDs and books that are neatly stacked and filed away into an older brown box that looks kind of like a movie prop. We were debating whether the box could've been left because someone was moving away or if it was an ex-lover's stuff. If it was the latter she had said, the ex-lover would probably be a guy, because she has a sixth-sense and it looked like a guys' stuff. I said it could've been a chick, she outright refuted me. It could've been a chick, though! *laughs*
There was a Barbra Streisand Hits CD in there. So now I'm off to find movies at 4:26 in the morning. Wish me luck, Casper!