Who wants flowers when you're dead? Nobody.
Forty-fifth Entry. Late birthday post #2
07-23-2003 | 1:33 a.m.

My birthday isn't going all that great. Sadly, that is expected. My birthdays are always less than wonderful. And, to tell the truth, I think I like it that way. My birthday is always the worst one of the family, and I go out of my way to see to it if things aren't panning out that way all on their own. I've only had to assist it once in 19 years.

I have been sleeping on the couch for the past few nights because my room is a mess. Everything is jumbled up in the middle of the room with a thousand and one things piled atop my bed. I've finally become a neat freak about my room, but it has to be this way because I've been painting it. Well, last night my dad fell asleep on the couch. There isn't anywhere else for me to sleep other than that couch so I laid down on the plastic bags in my room and slept there. That was fun, waking up every 5 minutes, how could it not be?

My mom, she bought a 5-pack of glazed donut sticks. There's four people in the family, so it's a natural assumption that the leftover stick would go to me. Not so. Bryan decided to grab it so that I wouldn't be forced to overeat and put on the pounds. Wasn't that considerate of him?

You'd think that I'd do something eventful for my birthday. Maybe go to a movie or maybe even the library. Buy something, window shop at the mall. Something, right? I painted my ceiling and watched my Dad's horrible choice in television because I can't change the channel while he's reading his wannabe Tom Clancy book. Talk about male bonding, huh?

My one perk of the day is the fact that I won't have to do any driving. That doesn't sound like much, but if you were the family chauffer, you would understand my utter elation. I've had some friends tell me happy birthday. That was fun. I was the first person to wish myself such. I like being the first for things like that.

I might go to New Jerusalem Cafe but I doubt it. I'm not really that hungry..and I don't want to go anywhere with my family. My dad is an ass, my brother is an embarrassment. My mom is all right, but I'm tired of spending time with her and the family... I'm tired of people. What I wanted for my birthday was 24 hours of solitude. Complete solitude. I guess the reason I didn't mind painting my ceiling was the simple fact that I was alone while doing it.. I'm still not done.

Maybe I can con them into going somewhere without me. Maybe I can send them off to eat without me having to be there. I wish I was as intelligent as Jimmy Neutron so that I could build a clone that they could nag. It would make everything so much easier.

Can you believe this? My dad is bitching at me because I don't want to go to my "birthday dinner." What a load of shit. If I killed him expertly enough, do you think I could really get away with it? Let's hope so. Or maybe he'll suffocate puffing on his damn cigarettes. Either way.

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Flashes of High School
Summer of Change
No Brass, No ammo
Lost in Translation

Last Five

And that's that.
Referenced #2
To write them.
Heart vs mind.