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5:42 p.m.
2001-07-16
F@*&!
::strangled cry::
I know I already wrote today, and I didn't want to be writing more than once a day, but I need to vent. That's why I have this thing.
She's not going to give in until I go her way. I know I don't know what to expect for next year. I am well aware of that. It's going to be a lot of work. That I am aware of. I'm not going to let anything slip. I am very versatile. I think and know that I can do this. I am not going to be swayed by her rock-ness, as it were. I can work, and go to school, and do my work, and do this, and get by. I'm not going to fuck up here. So I might not sleep as much as I have been. Big fucking whoop--I got by on an average of three hours of sleep a night junior year. I can do it again. It's not going to affect her in any way. If I can't get back out there, I'll fucking sleep in the yard so that she doesn't know I'm here. But I'm planning on working during those sleeping hours (if it will work out), so I'll just need to get out there. God damn it.
I know that I shouldn't be doing this. I know I should just go to school and work, and that'll be that. Maybe if Dan and I can jointly do this...I can do the orchestra part, and some of the vocals, and he can do other vocals...I'm not backing out, simply because she says, "Now, go and call Kevin and tell him you're backing out." Because basically, I'd be saying, "Kevin, I have to drop Sound of Music because my mommy told me to. I'm 18 years old, but my mommy said I can't do this." I didn't do any shows this season because my mom said not to. This has nothing to do with her, and everything to do with me. If I just keep on track, and don't fuck around, I can do this. I know how to not fuck around. I'll start now. From this moment on, I'm done fucking around. If that's the only way to prove to her that I can do this, I will. I don't know if anyone I know reads this (Alex, maybe), but I'm sorry, guys, but I won't be seeing you until the party, unless everything I need to do is done. I already contacted UPS, and hopefully will be hearing from them about an interview ASAP. If I have to move out to Dad's to do this, I will. I don't fucking care. This is my fucking life, and this is what I want to do with it. "Why don't you wait until next season?" Next season my fucking ass. The day I say to her, "Oh, Mom, by the way, I'm doing a fall show at Ridge," she'll say, "You can't. You need to go to school and work and that's enough for you." It'll be the same thing, year after year. God fucking damn it!
Why can't I ever win? Why is it when something wonderful (no music pun intended) comes along, it gets fucking shot down? I don't know. I don't care. I'm going to find a way to do this fucking show, and if it kills me, then it kills me, and she can say, "I told you so," with abandon. Just because I did nothing with myself this summer doesn't mean it's going to continue. When was the last time I did nothing with myself? Please, someone tell me so that I can think that her fears are grounded. I don't want to be angry at her for the next couple of months and not speak to my mother because she was right. Because that's what this is escalating to. It's my life, damn it. I'm not going to live it the way you fucking people want me to, and the day you realize that, the better off everyone will be.
Quote for the day: "Wanna buy some magic beans? They're all the rage!" --Bean seller, Zelda--the Ocarina of Time (see previous note)