Day after day nothing changes: just like a circle, round and round without any clear end. Just four days ago I was declared to be a parasite, a person with a stone instead of a heart, all because I didn’t commend mother to do something. How can I command anyone, why should anyone follow my words? I see no reason, especially when talking about family members. I am actually a parasite of some kind, probably the one that slowly grows on the trees, ignorant to all what is around: rain, sunshine or cold. What good is it to be such a thing in life? Oh Life, for what are you preparing me? Why do need to go through such training? Yes, it is not for me to know, or to understand. The question, however, still lingers in my mind: do I have to continue this little theater of masks or should take some other means to live within this family? For what should I use this time: to establish the already developing skill, or to search for other methods? You will never know until you try. Indeed, but I hope I know father good enough. Other methods than unconditional love from me and from others, in other words he craves for ideal family. I can not give such a thing to him. I just hope that this thing I won’t have to regret later. I wonder sometimes, just when did our family break down. Was it even given the chance to live through the first year of the marriage? I doubt, but if so what holds my dear parents together? I cannot believe that they are so afraid to dare and start life once again, afraid of the unknown, afraid to loose this pile of shit we have now. It is cruel to say so, perhaps I am such insolent brat , I don’t value what I have, what me parents worked so hard to gain. But what good is the drop dead gorgeous house built on the rotten base. I don’t’ need luxury if I don’t know what love is like.

Strange it is to sit like this: in the middle of the night, in the middle of sleeping forms of my parents and sister. Just a half a day ago we were all standing in the doorway, everyone shouting something, threatening to punch each other. We screamed, we almost tore each other’s troughs and now the night has come over us, has silenced the pointless shouting. The night, just as it has come, will retreat and a new day will begin. A new day, but what of it? What good is this new day for a family traitor? A traitor, who is not to leave the one who was betrayed. What can be expected of coming day? More shouting? More heart gripping fear? More salty tears? What good is this kind of life? What is it to learn from it? Patience or silence?
The anger, it is the most disturbing thing rooted in the base of our house. You can almost touch it when the unhappiest person climbs up to the second floor, to present us with yet another fight. The anger, it is so thick, it radiates, it pushes you back, as a cold gust wind going right through your soul. It is a desperate anger, the anger of one who has nothing to loose. The anger of the unhappiest one. He has no real friends, he has no loving family, there is no occupation he truly likes doing. He is truly, truly the saddest person. What can I do? Create this non existing family? Find the non required friends? What is it that I can do to make him a happier person? In no condition it is to shout back at him, I will not surrender to such manipulation. All I can do is to try to calm him down and to try to explain him… what? Why the grass is green? I am at a loss. I don’t know what is to be done. To run, to leave him alone? His biggest fear is to be left alone.

I want to shout, to scream, yet my voice denies me this wish. I stand naked in front of the world, no clothes to hide myself in, nowhere to run, to escape. I equally wait and dread my 18th birthday. I don’t know what will happen, how they will react. Will I do what I plan to do? Will I have the courage to pull it through? And even so, how will she react, in fact it is all because of I have the right to do so, not because I need it? Is it so? Is it not because I wish to say all I have been bottling in myself through all these years? All this disdain, calling names, shouting, accusing, throwing back the past, oh how all of this makes me bitter. I will tell him all of this because he has the right to know the truth. The truth that I am not just a cold hearted bitch, who feels nothing, that I more than just a piece of shit as he has so many times had called me. I will make his words “ you are no daughter to me” come true. He has no right to act like this. Though I should thank him that all his attempts to make me cry in fact made me a stronger person, a person he wouldn’t like as his daughter. Soon I will be in right age to tell him that were is no “ when you will grow up you will understand”, I know that I saw, what I heard, and what I felt. I remember it all. I don’t hate him, as he is just a child, but I detest the way he treats people close to him. I despite this with all my little cold – killer heart.

Silent monologue

Why is it so hard sometimes to understand your own feelings? Too much of them or are they just too similar? Maybe the question is not correct. Why is it these few weeks that I cannot be still, I get angry quickly, I want to cry often, and I laugh then there is almost no reason to. That the hell is happening to me? Just yesterday I got sooo excited about Linkin Park, one could say I even fell in love with it. How come? Yes I liked them, but now it has become an obsession. I watched their live shows, and was fascinated by their energy, their talent even, and something more, but what I can’t quite grasp. Perhaps it is their music: melody, which seems to have found its way to my very soul, the lyrics that too are somehow familiar. I am at a loss it makes me unsettled. It even seems at times that I have nowhere to go, I don’t know how can I be useful, how can someone fond of languages be of some good use? I feel myself wanting to shout at the world, I want to scream, I am mad on nothing and everything? Is this how teenage shows itself? I hate it. I am frustrated when I don’t know what to do, when I don’t know why I don’t want anything… I am now at home, the place, which should be the where I would like to return, but I don’t want, I don’t like my own home. I know that I will that have changed here after the last time, after all these years. They are still the same, playing their stupid game. At times, it seems that I won’t be able to take more of it, but somehow, I shut myself of from this stupidity, and manage to keep myself under control. But is it the right thing to do? I choose to run instead of standing up for what I believe is the right thing. I run, I am coward, a lowly coward with no opinion. I am not angry on them, because I think they don’t even are aware that they are just playing around. They don’t want to know that either. I feel bad about all of this, but somehow I hope they will find their way to sort things out. It is just so hard to see how one believes to be terribly wronged and misunderstood, and another cannot forgive for the past ‘mistakes’. Their motives differ, but both of them seek the same thing – love, companionship. The saddest thing to see for me is how he looks down at everyone, as if they were some trash flying around his feet. I hate it. I hate how he looks upon the entire world. While in truth he is so clueless, just like the child, a lonely child, who doesn’t know the taste of all, and insists to be loved and even worshiped. He is so selfish, and yet he is my father, the only one I have. Wont’ I regret later that I didn’t show him that despite everything I do love him. But in my own way, in a way he won’t understand, as he requires total devotion to him. I can’t give him that. I am not ready to give myself to anyone. But how happy he feels whenever we have a daughter and father conversation about nothing important, but still very much open, I can’t really express this feeling. He phoned and with pride said “ we just talked and bla bla”. It is only how he feels. That conversation for was nothing more that just a pretext to be allowed to go to Klaipeda. I fell badly about it. I actually expected something totally different.
So many questions plague my small head. Parents, their problems, my own personal problems, and I run away, into the world there fantasy resides. I escape into the world of books. I read a lot especially the last week. I can’t help myself, I just read, read, read. And even more questions pop up. I hope it is something that will soon pass, as I don’t want to think about the outcome of all this. I am truly afraid of what can happen, I, who had thought about myself as someone who is not a scary cat, I dread the future, though I know that everything that will bring will have bad sides as well as good ones.