My mother, came in here one day while I was updating my journal on deviantART. She read it! She made me let her.
Now that...Just ticked me off. Really, it did. And she could tell. I'm glad she could see my anger. "Are you okay?" ********, no! You're taking away my privacy!
First you go through my things! Then you go through my things again and again! What do you want, mother?! Just what are you searching for?!
I am sick of this. Just plain sick of this bullshit.
To let me sit there...and watch you touch my belongings, to read my UNFINISHED stories [Never...do that again, mother!], to read anything I've written! Just what is your problem? I do not go through your things! I do not read your mail! I don't mess with any of your s**t!
Why the ******** are you doing this to me AGAIN?! I'm ******** sick of it!
Do you seriously think I'm keeping things from you? Bad things?
And why did you actually ask me... "Are you bi?" Just because of a story?! It wasn't even bad. It was about a confused kid, NOT ME. Lemme ask you, mother, do you think I'm bisexual? Why the ******** would you question your own daughters sexuality?
Mother, stop going through my things! It's not respectful to me. I tell everyone to not go through my things.
Tell me how does it feel to treat me like you do?!
Can't you see I'm already going through enough? I'm angry all the damn time, MOTHER. ALL THE DAMN TIME. DON'T PUSH IT!!!
