Don't Call For Silence

Updates: 7/5- New Rant Below

"It's alright, cause there's beauty in the breakdown..."
~ Let Go- Frou Frou

I hope everyone's fourth of July went well. I was having a really great day dispite the insane rain storm.
This dispite the fact that after going on and on about how I should strive to be Poet Laureate, my mother told me she wasn't going to help me get published. >_>
Now, I think she misunderstood me and thought I meant that I wanted to self-publish only and she thought that would be really expensive. But seriously? Then she goes off about how I've barely even tried yet and I should just try to get myself published in magazines and journals before that. What the heck?! It's one thing to be realistic, but COME ON! She wants me to go on to be The Poet Laureate but she doesn't even want me to have my own book published and totally shoots me down without even considering it at all? Thanks for the support.
This is why I don't write enough and I know it. I know it is.
I get no feedback because people are really more concerned with themselves and I understand and I don't blame them and I don't want to be pushy or impose or anything, but no feedback at all. "That was good!" Well gee, thanks. That didn't even help my ego.
I don't really get any encouragement either. No one ever says "Hey, have you written anything lately? I'd like to read it!" Never. Really never in my life I'm sadly afraid. I could be missing incidents, but they left no impression I guess.
My parents don't even want to read anything of mine at all unless I hand it to them directly and ask them to read it. Then they tell me it's good and that's it and they don't want to know if I've written anything else. It's disheartening.
The most motivating thing that's happened recently is when I said I'd remembered something I wanted to show my boyfriend his first guess as to what it was was that I got published. <3 That was unbelievably sweet. Unfortunately a bad guess, but still really sweet.
But seriously? She's going to shoot me down for trying to get a poetry book published like I've been hoping to do for the past 3 years and finally thought I'd found the motivation to go through with?
Well fuck that! What the heck? UGH!

I'm mad at my mother today. Sorry. That's where all this is coming from.
I spent all of Independence Day being social with my family and being helpful and cheerful even though I'm still limping on a broken toe, and I didn't even complain when they tried to take us to see a concert in the rain, which we left promptly. I was having a really good day altogether!
But in the evening, once the rain all stopped, we decided to light a fire outside and roast marshmellows. All the wood was wet, but I'm patient, so I started the fire up anyway and then told my mother to leave it alone and I'd watch it. Well, she said we should put paper on it to encourage it to burn and I said it was going okay and to just wait.
Once I'd limped back into the house, she went right on out and put newspaper all over it! What the heck?
So of course it blazed nicely, but then the newspaper burned out and took all the flame with it, including that off of the pieces I'd gotten burning.
So I start over, find some drier kindling this time, and then my mother AND brother come out to tell me how I've got my fire built all wrong and of course the sopping wet wood isn't going to burn if I have it stacked that way! What the heck? Well I got it burning again anyway and was going to wait with it, since it wasn't even remotely dark out yet, and she comes out and piles dry pinecones on it. After the third time I'd told her to leave it alone because it was my fire and I was going to keep it burning.
She just takes it over! Like she always does! Because she has to be the hero. Every time, and if she's not then it's just no good anyway.
This is how it's always been! This is how I was raised. If you're thinking that, well, that sounds just like you, Kaye, well you're right. Where could I possibly have learned it from?
I got really upset after that. I got really, miserably and noticably upset.
I did try to be the better person and I still enjoyed the fire and roasted marshmellows, but it's not like it was my fire anymore, so there was nothing to be proud of.
I gave myself a headache by being mad. Serves me right, huh? But by that point my toe was really hurting too and the whole thing about her saying she wouldn't help me get published was really getting to me again too.

Well, after she told my brothers that I was mad at her for "pwning her fire" I'd had enough and locked myself in my room and watched Wonder Boys, which put me in a great mood. By that time it was almost midnight so I came upstairs again because I wanted oatmeal, and as expected my brother had the internet so I couldn't get online and work off the inspiration I'd had.
Unexpectedly, my mother was still awake! And she decided to stay awake until almost 1 in the morning! What the crap? And did she ever think to apologize for upsetting me? No. No that would make her not the hero, and we couldn't have that. She didn't even try to talk to me. At all.
She's my freaking mother and she can't apologize that she first ruined and then took over my fire and upset me?
I know she's never been good at the whole comforting thing. I've never gotten a hug from her just because I looked like I was having a bad day unless it was a sarcastic one because she'd been the one who was mean to me and had thought it was funny, or so she could trap me and tell me about how I was in the wrong anyway.
Not that my dad is any different. But really?
I guess that all explains me. The psychiatrist writes down that I wasn't loved enough as a child and diagnoses me with something they can give me a handful of drugs for. Disgusting.

Jonny called today... and Will... left a message that was something about a party, but my phone didn't ring, so I texted Jonny back. Didn't get his second call either and didn't want to call back. I was in a bad enough mood that I didn't even want to go to a party. Somehow today managed to suck after how good it was.
I didn't even want to call back. I may be a terrible person for that. I feel like a terrible person.
Maybe I need more sleep. I could just be hormonal or something. I just really need a hug.

I wish I could walk. I want my toe to stop hurting. I want to go dancing.

I'm sorry. There's more crappy news. Maybe this was part of the setup for my breakdown too.
My family is sort of planning a trip to San Bernadino which we would apparently leave for Monday. The problem is; my training for Safeway is Monday morning. And hell if I know if they're going to put me on the schedule for next week. Chances are they aren't. But if they are I can't go. It's also four days away from Flagstaff, and Jason hasn't been doing well and I know I spend more than half the year away from him already...
But it would be sailing! I'd be in California on a sailboat on the ocean. It's like a dream! I want to go! I want to go so badly! I want to forget about absolutely everything, EVERYTHING, and just relax on a sailboat. Just have a proper, beautiful vacation.
I know I'd be letting Jason down since I'd be out of town, and I'd be letting Cayley down since I wouldn't be having a Tanabata party, but Tanabata falls in August this year anyway I'm pretty sure, and I'll see Jason again soon, and I can have another party before Cayley leaves...
The only problem would be freakin' Safeway because I don't know if I'll be working or not. It's so stupid. They don't even want me. They're only doing this for Karla. They're going to ruin everything and I know it.

I want to clean my room. All the way, not just bits and pieces. I want to write. I want to really really write. I want to make a book and publish it and hold it against my chest and know that every word inside is mine.
I want someone to come and take me away, because no matter how far I try to run myself I keep coming back and Flagstaff is great but it just keeps making me miserable somehow...
I don't want to have to drive anymore. I want to walk without pain. I want to stretch and run and for there to be enough sun out for me to tan.
I want a day when I have nothing to do at all and I don't have to extend any effort at all.

I want to be a good writer.
I want people to like me.
Right now, I can't handle being made fun of.
I can't handle losing anymore.

I want to know if my writing is worth something; if I'm any good.
I need to know and I need to be sure and I need people to read what I write and to care and to enjoy it

and I can't do it right now...
I'm just too blocked up I guess.

Sorry for just complaining. I know how few people read this anyway. I'm really sorry.

-Kaye Spivey

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