It's not you, it's me.

People need to come out of their fucking shell. Get out of their pathetic social circle full of insecure, desperate people and get with an intellectual. It just irritates the FUCK out of me to go to school and see all these girls in their 'trendy', expensive clothing, about half of them donning peace signs and the colors of the jamacian flag. They babble about their boyfriends, the relationships which last a month at the most, their 'horrible' lives, how 'fat' they are, their bubblegum music, how much of a 'slut' or a 'whore' another girl is, the appearances of other girls, their own appearances, and so many more things that are so pointless, that i don't even feel the need to list them all. You know what they are.
But these girls, they are such hipocrites. They wear leather shoes and then a tshirt boasting their love for animals. Save the whales, and all that nonsense. Yet, they also have a face plastered with makeup, concealer, eyeliner, mascara, and the like, makeup which is most likely made from harvested whale fat, animal product.
And the makeup. *shudders* I go to school and see fourteen year old girls painted up like whores, women who would go and stand on a street corner on friday and saturday nights. It disgusts me. I see ghostly white, stick thin, prepubescent girls, with so much blush on their cheeks that they look flushed, as if they are feverous. I see girls with so much coverup on their faces that they look unnaturally smooth, like sand blasted statuettes made of plastic.
It irritates me, and makes me tired. Makes me want to curl up and dissapear.
Snarl. Angry. Growl. I hate this fucking apartment. I hate coming home from school and seeing my dad sitting in the floor, playing video games, tears running down his face. I hate coming home to an empty kitchen, not a scrap of food in the entire apartment. I hate laying awake at night, listening to the noises of animated machine gun fire, the screams of victims in assorted horror movies, the sound of insomnia in the apartment. I hate hearing my dad and his wife fighting, her screaming like a phsychotic siren. I hate having to search for my sleeping pills every night, because my dad hides them so his wife won't take them. I hate having to take sleeping pills. I hate it when my stepmom takes her daughter and fucking dissapears. I hate how she takes my things and insults me behind my back and generally makes me feel how i'm not welcome here. I hate how, when my stepmom and her daughter are around, my dad ignores me and treats me like nothing. I hate it when he gets angry and starts picking on me, his prods and pokes slowly escalating until they're hot ashes from a ciggerette, being flicked onto my bare arms and neck, and then shoves, throwing me into the floor or into chairs and tables. I hate how his blows turn into punches landing into my stomach and ribs, darting once or twice to my face, leaving bruises and purpling my eyes. I hate how he insults me, dismissing it later as 'I was just playing' when he obviously wasn't. I hate it how no one in the whole goddamn apartment says anything, and how they never have. I hate it how, when I get depressed, people tell me to talk to them, tell them what's wrong, and when I do, they get mad and tell me that I don't have any real problems, that Im just wanting fucking attention.
But I don't. I don't want any attention. I would be fine with being all by myself, alone, and wailing and screaming and crying. I would be fine with wearing long jackets all year long to cover up my arms and bruises and wounds. I would be fine with snorting my lines and popping my pills and dealing with it on my own terms.
Most of all though, I hate how I can't hit him back. I hate how if I do, I'll be reported and sent back to jail, for at least six months. No hearing. Nothing.
I believe that's the thing I hate most in the world. Not being able to do anything about anything.