I hate hate hate hate hate roleplayers today. I can’t stand it. If I throw a thread up and you post in it, chances are, I’m going to respond. In fact, there is a 99.9% chance that I’m going to respond, because I love threading and roleplaying that much, even if you don’t put periods after the end of your sentences, you grammatically challenged asshole. And yeah, my grammar’s probably not the best either – hell, I don’t expect you to know what an oxford comma is ‘cause I sure as hell don’t, but you’re atrocious when it comes to basic comma usage and spelling – you can’t even capitalize half of your freakin’ proper nouns, so already you’re a basket case. But sure, fine, I read your lame ass post (and half of the goddamn thing was spent describing how fucking beautiful your character was, with porcelain skin and ruby red lips and blah blah blah – this isn’t a goddamn Disney film, so I don’t care about how pretty your courtesan slut is) and I said, “Ugh, whatever, I’ll respond.” I’m nice like that, see? Or maybe just desperate, desperate for a goddamn thread. I’m a roleplaying junk, see, I just gotta have my fix, even if it comes from assholes like you.

Days pass. I’m busy; I barely even log in the goddamn site. Now, when I finally have a chance to respond to Ms. Mary Sue, I see that you’ve assumed that I’m not going to respond, and you’ve… responded to the thread that I’ve started, and now you’re roleplaying with yourself. What? What? If I don’t respond in less than three days, you’ll hijack the thread that I started and start roleplaying with yourself? Man, fuck you – I barely have enough time in the day as it is to start a freakin’ thread. My weekends are spent hanging out with people a lot more fun with you, so don’t give me that shit – I wouldn’t waste my valuable free time on you on my holy Saturday (not holy in the goddamn religious terms, but sacred, sacred to me because I’m not expected to shit on Saturdays, mostly). You’re just… ridiculous. Roleplaying in general is ridiculous, goddamnit, I hate it and love it so much!

But I love it too! I feel sorry for abandoning my closest – damn, she just wanted to make a home for us, she really did. She was sick of us moving around and she just wanted to make the final resting place, where we wouldn’t have to worry about our site dying or fading out or whatever. Why did I leave? I’m searching for answers, racking my brain for a legitimate response to this, but nothing’s coming. Literally, nothing, I can’t think of any good reason. I feel like crawling back, but I know I won’t do that – I’ll probably just start roaming again, looking for the next best thing. Isn’t it sick, that I already have a few places in mind where I can go next? Isn’t it sick, that the place I roleplay on has to be perfect? Any time someone acts negatively towards me, I leave – I take off before drama can start, because I’ve been beaten and battered by drama before, I had someone who I was supposed to trust pull my rug of security out from under my feet, and I don’t want that happening again. Or maybe, it’s just that cynical feeling that I have – that there are so many other roleplaying sites out there, and I don’t have to put up with any bullshit. I didn’t have any attachment towards it anyway.

So fuck you and fuck your Inuyasha graphics – and if you’re really married and over twenty years old as you say… then I weep for this generation, I really do. How the fuck does someone as old as you have such atrocious grammar? Why is it that your characters have the most generic and cookie cutter personalities possible? I recently acquired this naïve belief that even if you fucking suck at writing, that you could still make a good plot piece – but no, I realize now that people like you are best left to your own goddamn devices. Leave me out of whatever world you live in.

When things like this happen, it makes me feel as if I should probably apologize to her, but I don’t know if she’s want I want. I didn’t even do anything wrong. Wasn’t she was the one who avoided me? I don’t know what I want anymore – I just want to stop roaming. I want to find peace. I want to quit, but I can’t. Why can’t I? Because I’m a junkie, that’s why, craving fix after fix, and moving on after the sites all dry up, leaving their corpses in my wake.

Fuck senior project. Fuck it to hell. Fuck finding a mentor and fuck working on a project with him, fuck preparing a speech and fuck telling the judges how much you learned during this project and how it bettered you as a person. Fuck it. This project's not bettering me, it's driving me insane. Just when I thought I found a mentor, I realized that their website had false information - they didn't live in East Providence anymore, they were all the way in goddamn Bristol. Bristol! Can't drive that far away, mom says, but why not? Too bad, just find a new mentor. Find a new mentor. Haha, like it's that goddamn easy - the only reason I chose the project I did was because I thought I had found a good mentor, that I was all set. Now? Too bad, so sad, you need to start all over again, wipe the clean slate, find a new mentor.

Maybe in any other state it'd be easy, but with corrupt Rhode Island? No. Can't go anywhere near Providence, that's the bad lands, nevermind that you'll be going there in broad daylight, haha, no, you need to choose somewhere else, nevermind that most newspaper joints are stationed over there. Others are too "shady," ones without websites can't be trusted, damn, nothing else seems acceptable for me to even step foot in, according to mom.

A part of me wants to flee, just run away like I do all my problems, and another part of me wishes I had never moved to East Providence at all. Yeah, in my first year here, I loved it - nicer people, better lunches, a fresh beginning, leaving behind my sordid past in Pawtucket. Fine, easy, cool. Now senior projects runs around and I want to tuck in my tail and start running. Typical of me, but that's how I am - why face a problem if you can just put distance from it instead? I'd love to sit here and count the ways my life would be different if we had just stayed our asses in Pawtucket. I'd like to think that maybe I could've prevented the move if I hadn't been so apathetic about it. Maybe things would be totally different if I had spoken up and said, no, I don't want to move, look at all the ties I made here, but I didn't do that. I did the opposite of that. I smiled at all the ties I was going to soon break and didn't say goodbye to any of them. Fucking coward I was, just running, now everything's gonna bite me in the back.

Just called Channel 12 and they can't get back to me 'till Thursday, too bad I really need this shit Friday and I don't have the heart to tell my mom how useless my situation is now. I don't get why they can't drive me to Bristol. It's a long drive and I know I need fifteen hours, and fifteen times is a lot to drive me back and forth, but I got nowhere else to go. I have nowhere else to go. I'd cry if I wasn't so pissed and the fact that I even want to cry is pissing me off even more. I'm tougher than this shit. I'm way tougher than this shit.

And I'm wondering what's stopping me from running, and then I remember yesterday and how proud I was of myself for realizing that this is my fate, this is what I have to do, and I realize they're all holding me down. Mom, Dad, my sister, and all the teachers who believe in me for some stupid reason - like Mr. Perry, who is the teacher I feel closest to there, the one that makes me think that maybe I'm not so goddamn useless after all.

And fuck, there are the tears, there's the water in my eyes, there's the eventually tear that slips down my cheek. How long has it been since I've seen my own tears? I dunno, I don't care anymore. I'm probably overreacting, and I'm just doing this because dad's not here. Mom's a fucking coward too when it comes to crisis - she just sits back and lets me take it, she's only ever there for the good, never there for the bad. I know she's done a lot for me and I know I need to repay my debts, but once I do, I'm gone. I think I deserve my own dream, if I even make it past this hurdle. After all I've done, I think I deserve my own goddamn dream.