Complaing about a fancy bathroom

    Recently my house has been going through some renovations. When I say recently I mean it's been going on for almost two months now and I am sooooooo done with all of it. Unfortunately it's most likely going to last for another month, the plus side is my floor is more or less going to be done within a weeks time, then all that will be left is the living room and main entrance.
    In general the renovations should have been more or less finished by now, but my father kept adding things for the worker to do, thus a two month job turned into a three month job. That is not what I'm going to complain about though! Nope, what I'm going to talk about is in the title, well no shit.
    Now my fathers girlfriend has been really involved in all of the remodeling, she's pretty much the head designer while my father tends to pay for everything while also occasionally giving his own opinion. One of the things being done was my bathroom, which when asked how I want it done my response was 'gray tiles, no wood, floor and wall tiles, cabinets don't touch the ground.' A few specific request, but mostly pretty generic. The only thing I did was choose my wall tiles and I let the adults do everything else because I couldn't care less, I'm planning on ditching this place within a year so I saw no reason to add any input.
    So Anna (fathers gf) has pretty much styled the bathroom and I will admit it's very nice and fancy looking, but thats the thing.. It's too nice looking. I feel uncomfortable and out of place when I go there now and even though it's technically done I still go downstairs to use my grandmothers wash closet because it doesn't look like it belongs in a five star hotel. I sound like such a spoiled bitch, because honestly if you saw the place your eyes would pop, but it feels so foreign to me that ahahahahahahahahah. Let's just say it's going to take time getting used to.
    The fact that Anna also bought all the extra little bathroom things made me feel sort of sad, cause now it doesn't feel like my bathroom anymore. I'm just a guest in this house. My only place is my room. Everything else is my fathers and his to do with as he please's. I feel a rant coming on, but I think I'll just completely skip over that because it deserves it's own dedicated post.
    Instead I'll focus on the fact that someone I know has read some of my blog. Which is super weird and terrifying, but also somewhat nice because even after reading almost two years of all this random bullshit he still got coffee with me and bought me lunch! During our meet up he brought up two things about me that I never really noticed.
    The first is that I apparently have very abrupt goodbyes, which I never really thought about or even noticed, but he brought it to my attention the last time we met up. I'm not sure how this works. To my understanding when people are about to go they say 'well this was fun and shit, but I gotta run' hand wave, girly/macho hug, hand shake and bye. Is that not how it works? Is it suppose to like drag out or something? Is there a proper goodbye etiquette that I am completely unaware of?
    Anything is possible, but I just find it amusing. Maybe my goodbyes are quick, because I don't like them. I've been through so many painful goodbyes that I probably treat all of them like a band aid- Quick and 'painless.'
    The second thing he brought to my attention that I already sort of knew about was the fact that I am a total emotional sadist on here. Which I knew, sometimes when I'm feeling really sad I let the emotion consume me and allow it to create whatever it desires to help me get through the feeling.
     I've found that to be my best method of sorting through my emotions, specially when I don't understand jack, but I will admit that they can be excessively cruel sometimes. I'm sorry for killing you Aster, I won't do it again..... maybe...
    Anyway I never thought that my post could pull at someone else's heart strings, which I found out from my friend that so far two of them have (I'm secretly hoping at least one will make him question his sanity). One is snow globes and the other was your ideal world. One is about seeing a broken me, a dead me, the other was about moments in my life and what if they hadn't happened?
    There was a line hinting at how Aster and I first got together, how he asked me to be his human and thats how it all started. There though he never got the chance and it didn't come to pass, which surprisingly caused a reaction in my friend. His manly emotions were stomped out by his romantic side and he made me question why I wrote something so painful. It's something I can't answer because I tend to just write, still I apologize.
    There's one more thing that he asked me, before he started to read my blog.

Was Aster worth the depression?

    Honestly, that's such a loaded question. It's assuming that if I didn't move and I somehow convinced my parents to stay in america that I wouldn't have gone through such a serious depression. That I wouldn't have felt the things I felt, done the things I did, came out broken and chipped but could somehow still smile.
    I answered what I felt to be an honest answer which was yes. If I woke up in my 13 year old body with my memories intact I would have taken the same steps I did before, because after 5 years of hell a stranger who was looking for a potential girlfriend decided to try to get to know me. And after trying to push him away with depressing talks, allusions to death and suicide, he still stayed for some fucking reason and is still here.
    The fact that I would go through that shit again for him, just goes to show I'm absolutely smitten with him. Damn weasel takes after his name sake cause he's burrowed his way into my heart and made himself comfortable there. The damn prat.
    Ugh, just goes to show that even I can act like a fricken love sick teenager, gross. Allow me to go hide in a bush and avoid every human until I feel androgynous again.

Hypocrite

For once I'm not lying in a pool of my own blood. Instead, this time, well it's... it's HIS. 

    My arms are trembling as they struggle to hold his body, while my mind is trying to comprehend what lies before it's eyes.

This...it can't be!

Still there he lies still warm, eyes half shut, glossy and fogged over. I hold back a sob while I push back his long blond hair, the parts that aren't drenched in blood are soft, recently washed. If it weren't for all the red he'd look like an angel with his hair fallen around him, almost like a halo.
    I can't bring myself to look at his eyes, but I bring my hand over his eyelids in order to close them. The world will never know if he died with blue or green eyes. It's hard to hold back the tears at this point and I allow myself to finally cry.
    It's morbid, but I hold his slowly cooling body close and silently let tears fall from my eyes. This, this isn't fair. I was suppose to win this bet, not him. I was suppose to be the one to go first! He's...he..how....
    My mind shuts down and at one point I feel like someone's trying to grab him from my arms, but that's the one thing I can't allow, so I struggle to keep one of my final lifelines near me.

He was all I had! You can't..Please.

    I shut my eyes and all I feel is cold. I'm shivering and I find myself curling in on myself. So... this is what it feels like? I stare at the blank grave knowing full well there's no one bellow. I stare at my hands and there's no blood on them. No empty shell that once housed an amazing human soul.
    The relief that fills me is over whelming and I find myself once again bawling my eyes out. What a cruel joke, of all the people you choose, you choose the one that I'm most familiar with physically. You didn't even have to imagine anything, because I filled in all the details.

I hate myself. 

    Looking down at my hands once more I see the usual blood stream, my reminder. The grave is surprisingly still there, right on the edge of no return. Turning around I see my tree, and for once I'm not glad to see it, because I know it did this
    I want to scream and shout at it, but I know it's pointless, because what I just went through, however short lived it was, that is what he would go through. For a moment my eyes play that scene again and I can feel my heart jerk in pain. No. I finally say, swiping that scene to the side. I refuse to see that again. I never want to see that. He's only allowed to go when he's all gray and old, preferably in his sleep.

I'm such a hypocrite. 

    When I close my eyes and open them once again I find myself in bed with only half the covers on me. Looking over I can see he's taken them all and I smile taking note that both my hands and feet are frozen solid. Without a moments hesitation I wrap myself around him, making sure as much of my cold limbs touch him as possible. I hear a yelp from him and can't help but giggle slightly. That's much better.

Przepraszam, ale i też dziękuje. 

To think

It's thrilling yet terrifying to think such a thing could be possible.

It excites me, yet at the same time there is always a tiny bit of doubt buried deep within. 

What if it doesn't work?

What if we end up hating each other?

What if you can't handle it?

What if you start to forget?

All these thoughts and question hidden deep within my mind. They fester and grow slowly, carefully trying to fill me with fear and doubt. Trying to silence me, keep me from moving forward. 

Yet this tiny part of me is pushed aside, because the excitement is so much greater.

I'll get to see him everyday!
Our relationship will grow even more!

I'll get to know him even more!

Comfort and sanity will be at arms length! 

These thoughts bubble up the most. 

The happiness, the excitement, the nerves, the fear, the doubt. They all exist and they all have their own thoughts about this, but in the end I still want to try. I want to see if this can move forward, if this can continue to evolve and grow becoming something even more amazing.

This could be the catalyst.

It could also be the beginning of the next great adventure.

Visit to the past

My mental state balances on the ledge of being another statistic and just barely hanging on. 

    I'm cuddled up in my bed drifting between sleep and awake, thinking about the week ahead. Aster was moving in and I couldn't be more excited and terrified at the same time. Sleep eventually won though and my restless thoughts were silenced for a time.
    Suddenly though I feel myself violently waking, jolting upright as if I was slouched over something. A loud noise is made with my movement, as if a chair was being scraped across the floor and I can hear whispers all around me suddenly stop and turn into laughter. What? I look around confused only to see I'm inside a classroom, not just any classroom though, my old homeroom with my old, loud classmates.
    They're quieted by the teachers voice "Glad to see you've awoken sleepyhead. I know homeroom is boring, but could you refrain from sleeping while I try to organize a class trip that isn't the movies?" I stutter out an apology before slouching and covering my face. This, this is a dream right? I look around noticing all of my classmates are accounted for. There's one I hone in on immediately though, front row right next to the door, short blond hair. Wait, short?
    That means it's only the second year, winter time judging from the boots I'm wearing and the weather outside. I feel tears swell up in my eyes, we haven't started talking yet, we don't start to talk until the end of second year, not for another couple of months. I sigh, but pretend to listen to the teachers plan to go somewhere. It never happens. But this is just a dream, so might as well continue forward until I finally wake up from this nightmare. Aster was the only good thing about high school, everything else was a god damn fucking pain in the ass.

It's been three days.

    Why the fuck am I still in this dream? Who am I kidding, I'm starting to think I traveled back in time and it's slowly driving me insane. I have long hair during this time that I'm just itching to cut, all my tattoos are non-existent and it's making me feel naked, my glove is there, but the scars are so prominent that they make me want to puke. Everything is so messed up and wrong, that I can't hold it together anymore.
    It doesn't help that my bodies hormones are at their worst levels during this time and it's making it even more difficult to function. The worst part though, is seeing Aster everyday and not even talking to him, because we don't know each other yet, he isn't MY Aster, MY human, My lifeline.
    I sit down at my usual spot waiting for math to start so I can go to sleep. Unfortunately, I'm not left alone as the guy I sit next to and blocked as soon as I graduated starts to complain about something trivial. Honestly, this shit grates on my nerves and I've had it up to here with this annoying ass dream. So for once I don't bite my tongue and bare it, I let that sucker go full force.
    'You know Pete that's really interesting and all and if I cared I'd totally agree with you, but I couldn't give a bigger shit. So go suck a dick, cause at least then your mouth will be useful for something.' With that I grab my bag and leave the room, saluting my teacher goodbye as she walks down the hall. I ignore her shouts and stomp right out of the school, pissed beyond belief and terrified. 
    What if this is not a dream? It's been three days, three long days. It's getting harder and harder not to go climb a nice tall building to throw myself off it, because I can't live through all this bullshit all over again. These next few years were awful and I just wanna be done.
    My feet end up taking me to a park near the school and despite the cold I curl up on a bench and just go numb. What am I suppose to do if this is real? I can't go through that all over again. What if this time I don't peak Asters interest and we don't end up together? I can't, I don't know what I'll do if he's gone. Larkspur's a great supportive lifeline, but Aster is tangible and reachable at a moments notice. I'm not sure I can function without him.
    I mope on the bench ignoring the  world around me, trying to understand why I'm here, when I start to hear someone come up to me. They say my name and I look up and feel dumb-strucked. Aster? He shouldn't know about this park yet, nor would he have any reason to follow me of all people, yet there he is bundled up in his coat and staring straight at me. He seems very amused yet slightly relieved as well. We stare for a moment before he sits right next to me on the bench and whispers in my ear 'Wake up you lazy piece of shit!'
    I'm pushed from my bed and after a moment of disorientation I find myself on the floor with Aster looking at me from my bed. 'Sleep well?' He cockily asks all the while smirking. I stand pretending to get angry at him for interrupting my sleep before pouncing on him.

Thank god, that was just an awful dream.

October writing

    This is just a short introduction as to what I'm going to be doing this month. I've always had trouble with writing consistently, although last year I was a lot better about it than this year, but I decided to make October write everyday month!
    I'm pretty much stealing the idea from NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), except I'm changing the concept to suite my needs better. Firstly I have to post something on my blog every single day in October, no skipping or double posting. Second It's gotta be about 500 words or more unless it's a poem type thingy. I don't know how to control word counts for those they tend to just come to life of their own free will.
    So yup, I'm gonna try doing this. Not sure how it will work out, but two years ago my friend took part in NaNoWriMo and I want  to do that one day too, but with school and work I don't think I'd be able to keep up with it, so I'm doing something different.
    Also I'm cheating and counting this as my first post for October blog month. Should probably come up with a name or something eventually.

Whelp, till tomorrow I guess.

I long for a freedom that I'll never achieve

    I got a job recently. It was my first real job. When I say real I mean people don't come asking for you to help and than they pay you. I mean I had to send an email with my CV and than hope they'd call. All of august I sent out tons of CV's, mostly to clothing stores, there was one pet store and I even tried the library, but they weren't hiring.
    When I wasn't job searching I was clearing my room of unnecessary things. Throwing things away, clearing out my closet of clothes I hadn't warn in years, giving away jewelry that I'd somehow acquired over the years but never worn. It was difficult at some points, because it sort of felt like I was losing pieces of myself slowly but surely.
    The worst part was when I was going through my books. That probably killed me the most. Which books am I sure I'm never going to touch again? The ones that I knew I'd never read were donated to the library. At least they aren't lost forever and will be put to good use. The only thing I didn't touch was my manga collection, I don't think I'd ever really be able to part with that.
    The whole time I was doing this I made sure my father was completely unaware. Cleaning, organizing and throwing things out/ donating them were done during his work hours, so he'd never notice. I'm pretty sure he never realized my room looked more spars, by now it's turned into the norm. Still all of august I searched for work, anything really because not only did I need something to pass the time, but I want to move out.
    It's slowly getting harder and harder for me to live with this man that pays all the bills and gives me free money. At first glance I pretty much live the spoiled 'rich' kid life or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but when you look deeper it's not like that.
    Warning this is just my complaining about the father skip ahead if you don't want to read this shit. First he almost never cleans up after himself. He will always leave the kitchen a mess after he's done using it, he won't put dirty plates into the dish washer, he rarely cleans pots and pans after using them for dinner, he leaves bread crumbs and sticky spots all over the counter top. When he makes breakfast for himself and his girlfriend sometimes he just leaves the mess, because the magical fairy will come and clean it up.
    Honestly the only times he cleans up after cooking in the kitchen is when I tell him I'm not cleaning this up. That's probably my biggest pet peeve; having a clean kitchen. I couldn't give a bigger shit if my rooms messy or if the bathroom hasn't been properly cleaned in a month, nope don't give a single shit, but the kitchen well that drives me insane.
    It's not like it's an unreasonable thing, the kitchen is where you cook food and where you eat and store it too, so it should be kept clean. That way your food doesn't have random dirty debris in it. Other little things include never emptying the dish washer when it's clean nor turning it on when it's full. Listening to the television obnoxiously loud. And getting upset over silly little things. There's probably more, but nothings coming to mind, so I'm gonna move on.

Rant over.

    Those are just some of the reason as to why I want to move out, even though I know I'd lose so many things from leaving, but I crave the faux freedom more than this dead environment. I want to live with Aster and Bax, even if that meant I'd have to take allergy pills every day, even if I'd have to magically balance work and uni just to pay the bills and get that stupid degree this world requires of me.
    I'd be okay with that, because I would no longer be stuck in this empty shell of a house. The only place I feel comfortable is my room, because it's one of the newer parts of the house and the only memories in there are of my brother and I, but mostly me. Maybe I wouldn't feel this inner storm if I could live with Aster, my room is big enough that it could fit the both of us easily along with Bax, but my father would never fucking agree to such a thing. We had a conversation about a year back where he told me that he would never allow Aster to live with me, because he wouldn't feel comfortable about it. At the time I understood and saw no problem with it, now though?
    Now I feel such a strong pull towards Aster that it kills me sometimes. That small trip where I got to wake up next to him every single day, was the most wonderful thing on the planet. So when I had to go home after that and sleep alone, it just about killed me. One night I actually cried, because the feeling of cold emptiness inside me physically hurt.
    I just hated it and as stupid as this sounds ever since than I've been longing for that once again. That time where I was only really responsible for myself, Aster and Bax. I didn't have to think about my behavior and what I needed to do in order for my father to leave me alone or what I shouldn't do. I got a taste of such a beautiful thing, a what if scenario and now I long for it.
    Thus I searched for and managed to somehow acquire a job that I even enjoy to a certain degree, while also trying to rid my room of unnecessary things. At the moment though it really is just a silly dream. For I haven't really spoken to it about Aster and I know I wouldn't be able to just move out without my father noticing.
    Both are difficult conversations for me, that I can't seem to bring up. How do I just randomly ask Aster if he would seriously consider moving in with me sometime before the end of the year or the beginning of the next?

 Easy you just say it. 

    I wish I could just out right say that, but as I very well know I'm a fucking coward. I almost wish I could just send him this post, because it'd be a million times easier, but that'd be cheating wouldn't it? As for my father, if I ever get past the convo with Aster and am seriously unable to move out without him noticing, well than I guess I'll just have to sit him down and tell him I'm blowing this joint.

Life is just...

Life is just a bunch of distractions.

They're all rolled into one steady path that keeps you from ever realizing such a silly thing.

First it's school.

You've got at least 12 years of distractions from that, not even including all the things that could come from the environment school supplies for you. Friends, enemies, crushes, hormones, homework, hobbies, so many things can just POP up and distract you from one major detail. 

After school it's either college or a job, some half-assed goal that will keep you moving forward, either one provides enough of a distraction that you don't think about much of anything else. Instead you're focusing on your future, maybe looking for that other half or enjoying the single life. 

Either way it's enough and you keep moving forward looking towards having a family, living the life of luxury, adventure, passionate love whatever you want to do.

All the while you're unaware that everything you're doing is just another task to keep you going. Another tiny goal that will keep you from thinking too much, because why would you want to think about that. 

It's such a trivial thing, but at the same time once you realize it, well it shakes you to your core. 

You live to continue doing your self assigned tasks, whether that's provide for someone, continue to have the funds to do what you love or maybe you're just going along with social norms, it doesn't really matter. 

For it all comes to an end eventually. 

This list of things you want to do or 'have' to do all come to a stop when your light flickers out. Whether it's with grace or not eventually everyone ends up in that situation. Some really never realize what they did was just a bunch of self-appointed tasks meant to give them more meaning in their lives, they're lucky bastards.

Some come to that conclusion way to early in their lives and when they do, they can't help but look at everything around them and think- pointless.

 Why should I find myself something to do? 

What's the point in doing this? 

How come it's so difficult to ignore this?

It's so difficult to reach out when the only thing ringing in your ears is;

'Life, well life is just a bunch of distractions and then,

well then you die.'