Been sick several times and caught a disease. All in a month.

You’d think the air was contaminated here.

 

biens been doing fine. He’ll sit on his bum all day doing nothing. I’ve been doing the same. My bed is in the living room, if you could call it that.

 

Mom says this is good for me. I don’t leave the house until I go to school. I go to bed at 9 PM. I sleep at 2 in the morning. there was a sign in Ohio that says a person should get eight hours of sleep each day. I get six.

 

School is fine. Not much to say. It’s all pointless anyway. Half my classes teach what I learned in fifth grade.

 

my head and stomach hurts. Doesn’t matter.

 

As usual, mom lets me sleep through my alarm. then acts like it’s my fault she didn’t wake me up when my alarm sounded. she should get lost.

 

when we moved, I wondered what our house would look like. mom would never say anything about the new house. well, that’s because we have to live in grnadpa’s house. She say she’s gonna kick me out when I’m eighteen, but I’m not the one living with my mom in my forties.

theres nothing to do here. read books? I read the good ones already. Play games? even my greatest hobby is getting a bit stale. play sports? Too hot. Go swimming? waste of time, and I’ve been in my dark bedroom so long the sun hurts my eyes. same thing everyday. wake up, go to school, head home, wait five hours and go to sleep. nothing new. nothing fun. nothing happy.

 

biens cousins come over on the weekends. no, they’re not my cousins, they’re biens. They are annoying. I hate them even more than I despise Khoi. hating Khoi is an old phase now, though. he’s the least of my problems.

 

nothing from my my past matters anymore. it’s like reading a book with the first eleven chapters torn out.

 

my moms a jerk. in fact, after she reads this, she’ll go crazy again. she hated my last post because of the comment about her being drunk. even when she is sober, she’s drunk. she’ll hate this post too.

 

mom says I’m doing mood swings. she says she gives me everything I ask for but I’m still unhappy. so I ask her if I can go home. she scoffs, and leaves. this has happened four times.

 

i cried the first few nights. I don’t anymore. mom wouldn’t care if I started cutting slits in my wrists. she wouldn’t let me go home. crying seems pointless.

 

when I’m having one of my “fits”, mom will leave my there, lying on the cold hard floor. when this happens, I think about everything  that’s happened. there is a special occasion when mom isn’t some idiot barking orders at me. it’s when her sisters are over. then she’ll tape a fake smile on her face while I sit alone in a dark corner. she’ll tell her sisters I’m some good for nothing brat that appreciates nothing, and that I’m going through some mood swings. then she wonders why I hate her.

 

my aunt bought me a computer. As if that will make up for anything. mom acts like she’s the one who bought it for me, and that I should be grateful towards her. I’m not.

 

mom says living in her moms house is a temporary thing, that she’ll get a job soon. she’s lying, like when she lied about the house, job, going home, and going to a good school. one time I tell her she’s a liar. she gets mad and leaves me on the floor again.

 

My my aunt also bought a dog. look, she could buy me a limo made of gold right now and I wouldn’t be happy. the dog is cute, but it’s not like you can play with a dog. i could throw a stick for it to fetch, but I don’t see how that’s “playing”.

 

i tried to run away once. Mom chased me, but she gave up after two steps. she probably thought I was better off gone. grandpa and grandma found me, and took me to my aunts.

mom constantly wants to know where my wallet is. it’s a bit suspicious. it’s possible that she’s sunk so low that she steals money from children. last laughs on her. I pickpocket some of her money. when she asked me to give it back, I kept a five dollar bill. ha ha. it was funny to me when I took it. it doesn’t seem funny now. Nothing ever does.

I can see the adults now. “Nam, it’s not so bad. Your cousins have moved multiple times and they’re fine.” well, shove those words right back to your throat. That like saying, “Oh your friend died? Don’t be such an idiot and stop crying. All MY friends died. Suck it up, baby.”

i laugh at school. when I get back home, everything feels sad. now that I think about it, my laughs have all been faked in the past few weeks. I haven’t laughed in months.

the only thing I do no is watch tv. video games have gotten almost, boring. I never imagined I’d say that. maybe that was moms plan, getting me to stop playing games by sending me to Florida. It’s a silly thought. mom doesn’t consider what’s best for me.

you might wonder why there’s no title to this post. it simply doesn’t need one. what would be the title anyway? no one really cares.

”let’s go swimming!”, mom says. sad for you, you can’t swim. “let’s go to a festival!”, says mom. cheap shot, trying to get me to leave the house.

if I don’t die of lack of vitamin d because I don’t go outside, I’ll die from boredom. I used to be really afraid of death. Now? not so much. I’m still scared, but I’ll accept that if I have to. one must learn that death is inevitable. People say death is but the next great adventure. I say it’s getting a nice nap after a terrible and horrible day.

As usual, mom is out. just so I don’t make her mad, I’m going to say that she’s NOT drinking right now.

i started a journal. it’s my sixth one. I’ll probably get rid of it soon, just like the others.

I remember my first ever comic. I was proud of it. I stapled the pages together and showed it to Khang. then mom threw it away. being the stupid little boy I was, I didn’t notice and just made more comics. soon, those went missing too. I’m telling you this story because I have something to tell you: never follow your dreams.. I wanted to be a comic book author, and I failed miserably. if you try to follow your dreams, you’ll just end in crying and despair. never hope either. it will just hurt more if you do. Khôi want to be a pilot, bien wants to be an artist, all the other kids have some sort of dream job. dreams don’t come true. that’s why they’re dreams. let the almighty and wise adults answer the question: how many of your dreams have come true? one, maybe two. now, how many of your BIGGEST and WILDEST dreams of come true? none. it’s better to give up now. Learn this early, or you’ll just waste your life away.

“nam,” you might think. “what about those famous people who accomplished things people thought they couldn’t?” My argument is, well that’s why they’re famous, dimwit! if dreams came true all the time, and amazing things were always happening, there would be no famous people. if you make everyone special, no one will be. Dreams can come true. But that’s unlikely. nothing’s impossible, your dreams are improbable.

give up while you can