You know, many times in books or movies or TV shows, or even radio shows (yes, those do still exist believe it or not) people always seem to have that one best friend that lives right next door. The person that when they needed someone, they could just walk over to their house and talk to, in person, somebody that they could just hang with, somebody that was better than a sibling. Somebody like a sibling. A family away from home. Where you could just walk in, open the fridge, take out some milk and cookies and say, "hey mom," when your friends mother walks into the room. Or if you come over in the middle of dinner she just says, "Where have you been? You're late!" Not asking you to come back later, but pulling out the chair that is always there for you. Something like that, that's what I want. But do I have that? No. I don't even know the names of my neighbors except for those two little girls I babysit. I don't even know what some of them look like! My closest friends, they live over half an hour away, driving. My closest friend distance wise is an half hour walk away. Maybe, I've never actually walked the distance. But you see, the problem is that even with these friends, they aren't the friends like family. I don't call their parents mom. I'm not completely open with them. We're drifting. I'm becoming more isolated. People have these great relationships with their friends; do I actually have that relationship? By the way, to my friends, if you are still reading this, even though I told you not to in the author note, please stop, and if you continue, don't talk to me about this. I am your diary. This is mine. Thank you; now back to my complaining. I feel as if all my friends have that really close relationship with at least one other person. And that in some circumstances, if I hadn't moved, I would be part of that tight knit group, but I'm an outsider, part of the group via email and phone calls. The person who just hordes information. Scaring people with my want, my need for information. I want to know what's going on, I want to be a part of this group. When they talk about something that occurred in their school and most people wouldn't completely understand because they don't have the backstory. I want to be as close as possible to the group that I would have the back story to the back story. But the issue is that I might have all this information, but I wasn't there. I didn't get feel the emotions, my senses weren't all in use. I have to use my imagination to imagine the scenes. Some people, they're just names, I don't even have a face to go with this person. Other people have changed so much that if I ran into them somewhere I wouldn't recognize them. I might know everything they have done in the past three years, but I wouldn't know them. And that scares me. I know all this information on people. I am like the ultimate enemy. I have emails full of information on people. One day I could just snap. And these people, they would be doomed. Their deepest secrets would go out into the world. But the fact that they have someone that they can tell that to. That's reassuring, that there is someone there that would just listen. That is me. So who will listen to me? If I am the listener, who can I speak to? Where is my diary? Is writing really that good of an outlet, or do I need something more? Why am I even dumping all of this information onto you, random strangers probably hoping for something completely different than what you read. (By the way, if my friends are still reading this, I have warned you twice, now, this is thrice, STOP READING!) Just ugh, I don't know how to express myself, I have probably said much of this twice already. Well anyways. New rant!
Family, so most people have a very close relationship with SOMEONE in their family, whether it be someone in their immediate family or not it makes no difference. Most people live relatively close to their extended grandparents, they are always with their cousins and have a loving relationship and whatnot. But me? My family lives in another freaking continent. A continent NOT physically connected to North America. So do I have that love, that tight knit feeling? No. I feel as if there is something missing. When I talk to my grandparents and cousins via skype there is always this type of connection that they all seem to have. My cousins on my dad's side literally all live in the same yard! All of my uncles stayed on my grandfather's property for petes sake! The only birdie that flew the nest was my father. And at first he stayed in the same neighborhood. But after that? He freaking left the continent. I just, I don't know. There really isn't a point in this at all. I'm just ranting my little heart out with no real grammar or paragraphs which I know must be a real pain in the ass to read on fanfiction but right now I really don't care. But back to family, so then there is my immediate family. As I wrote in the last chapter of this, I just decided that this will be a rant story, a story of my rants. I have this burning hatred of my little sister, I just despise her. But then my father as well, he is basically a tyrant. A dictator at heart. It's just so infuriating. UGH! I don't know how to express myself. I just wish that people could read my thoughts, but only the ones that I want them to read, because if they read all my thoughts I would most definitely be locked up as a threat to the well beings of others seeing how many times a day I ponder murder. And death. And yeah, even suicide. No I am not depressed. I would never actually commit suicide. I just wonder about it. You know. What it's like. How can I write somebody committing suicide, what would it feel like? Why would I do it. Writer questions, you know. The normal kind.
I feel that I should probably end now. It's about a thousand unedited words of rant. No grammar critiquing please. I don't need that right now. I know the grammar sucks. I don't even want to go over it. This story will not actually be looked over. Just all the little red squiggly lines of my misspellings and that is it. No green squiggly lines of grammar. But do review, if you want to. It might be to tell me that I need some serious help. Maybe pity. Just let me know that you read this. Again, if you are a friend of mine, as in a real life I actually know who you are and you live somewhat close to me and you are still reading this, even after I told you to stop multiple times, one, I love you. Two don't let me know that you read this in any way shape or form. I don't want to know. You might be confident enough to use me as your diary. But I am not. I don't even know if I'm going to actually post this. But now that I said that I probably will. Anyways, I apologize for this sort of authors note thing. More like a footnote. Well anyways. I think I'll go now. So anybody who is not a personal friend of mine please review! It would make me happy that somebody actually read this
P.S. If any of the readers are followers of Phantoms From the Shadows I apologize for the delay, that is my fault. I have had a lot to do, a lot on my mind. I have not had time to edit. I don't know if a chapter will be up this weekend. School's a bitch.
P.P.S Any followers of Vrangr. That isn't my fault
P.P.P.S Sorry for my language. I swear when I get passionate/mad/tired.
P.P.P.P.S As you noticed this is not a chapter two of anything. That is because I decided against it. So what it was going to be a chapter two off is "Is This Normal?" One of my one shots very similar to this just a little more edited.