writing for writing's sake
I think I have problems with guilt (I swear I complain about a new pyschological problem every month). But sometimes I feel like my conscience is in overdrive. I blame it on my mother's scheme to get me to be a better person in 7th grade. That year was a year I was not proud of. When I was 12 I started drinking, smoking, smoking pot, stealing, lying, kissing boys, etc. Most of the stuff still to this day doesn't really bother me. Drinking, smoking, kissing, who cares. But stealing and lying...now you'll never see me steal something (other than things I know that nobody wants/needs) and I always tell people, I DON'T LIE. I don't. I hate lying, so much. In other people, and myself.
So anyway when I was younger I stole everything I could get my hands on. I stole cigarettes and makeup from stores, I stole alcohol from people's houses, and I stole money from my parents and sometimes others. That is the part I am most ashamed of. I started by taking ones and fives from my mom's wallet when she wasn't looking, then went to taking twenties. One day, she obviously knew what was going on, because she had set this wad of cash on the table for groceries (my mom spends like 100 dollars on groceries--Italian mothers) and all of a sudden a twenty was gone.
My mother, from whom I inherit my adeptness at psychological profiling of others, said "Oh no. Oh no I thought I had more than this. *sigh* I guess we'll just have to go without some food this week. " I immediately felt the guilt wash over me, ran upstairs and back down and said "Look what I found!" holding out the twenty (I was 12, give me a break). She never yelled at me, I could just tell she was disappointed, and from that day on I never stole again.
However now, ESPECIALLY with my mother, that's turned into guilt with everything. I actually cried in high school one time because she made me a sandwich for lunch and I wanted to go out to lunch with my friends so I didn't eat the sandwich. When she gives me food to take up to my apt with me, if I let any of it go to waste I feel awful. If she wants me to come to Geneva to visit my grandmother or go to church or something, I feel like I have to go. On second thought, that may not be because of the money stealing, that may be just what mothers do. I still think I have a complex though, whether or not it's from her.
Anyway I'm not sure how I got on this topic, so I'm gonna leave it now.
I finished Harry Potter! (Still haven't finished Kingdom Hearts...but I'm getting closer!) The book is so sad. Especially one word. I don't want to ruin it for anyone, but when a certain someone is on top of a tower and another certain someone rushes in, then the first person just says their name pleadingly, to no avail....God that made me cry. Very, very good book though.
Hmm I was supposed to say Andrew's name in here 10 times, evenly spaced, in separate paragraphs. I don't really think that's gonna work with the themes of tonight's entry. But I will say I LOVE YOU! I'm meeting his family for the first time in exactly a week. AHHHHH. Oh yeah.... I doubt that I'll write from the 4th through the 16th of August, but I'll have a loooot to say when I get back!
So anyway when I was younger I stole everything I could get my hands on. I stole cigarettes and makeup from stores, I stole alcohol from people's houses, and I stole money from my parents and sometimes others. That is the part I am most ashamed of. I started by taking ones and fives from my mom's wallet when she wasn't looking, then went to taking twenties. One day, she obviously knew what was going on, because she had set this wad of cash on the table for groceries (my mom spends like 100 dollars on groceries--Italian mothers) and all of a sudden a twenty was gone.
My mother, from whom I inherit my adeptness at psychological profiling of others, said "Oh no. Oh no I thought I had more than this. *sigh* I guess we'll just have to go without some food this week. " I immediately felt the guilt wash over me, ran upstairs and back down and said "Look what I found!" holding out the twenty (I was 12, give me a break). She never yelled at me, I could just tell she was disappointed, and from that day on I never stole again.
However now, ESPECIALLY with my mother, that's turned into guilt with everything. I actually cried in high school one time because she made me a sandwich for lunch and I wanted to go out to lunch with my friends so I didn't eat the sandwich. When she gives me food to take up to my apt with me, if I let any of it go to waste I feel awful. If she wants me to come to Geneva to visit my grandmother or go to church or something, I feel like I have to go. On second thought, that may not be because of the money stealing, that may be just what mothers do. I still think I have a complex though, whether or not it's from her.
Anyway I'm not sure how I got on this topic, so I'm gonna leave it now.
I finished Harry Potter! (Still haven't finished Kingdom Hearts...but I'm getting closer!) The book is so sad. Especially one word. I don't want to ruin it for anyone, but when a certain someone is on top of a tower and another certain someone rushes in, then the first person just says their name pleadingly, to no avail....God that made me cry. Very, very good book though.
Hmm I was supposed to say Andrew's name in here 10 times, evenly spaced, in separate paragraphs. I don't really think that's gonna work with the themes of tonight's entry. But I will say I LOVE YOU! I'm meeting his family for the first time in exactly a week. AHHHHH. Oh yeah.... I doubt that I'll write from the 4th through the 16th of August, but I'll have a loooot to say when I get back!
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