Rant of Angry

I think hate is a common theme among my blog posts.

In February, I made a post entitled 'Birthdays and Why I Hate Them'. Today, a bunch of my relatives came over to have a late birthday celebration for me.

I must've been the only one who wasn't celebrating.

I'll get back to the birthday thing, but I need to address something else first.

Last night on formspring, someone told me I should be more optimistic and that I might enjoy being happy. There are many things that piss me off about this. First of all, I am not pessimistic all the time. I crack jokes at lunch, I tell the occasional story, and I laugh when someone says something funny just like anyone else. But what I think separates me from everyone else is that I look at everything realistically. I, for one, hate when people say, "Everything's gonna be alright," because YOU DON'T KNOW THAT. Also, I don't appreciate people telling me who to be. If I want to be angry, then I'll be angry. If my depressing or angry statuses bother you that much, then go ahead and block me from your news feed. I'm not ordering you to listen to me. Ignore me if you want. But stop trying to change who I am. I just found out that I probably have multiple personality disorders which include being paranoid, schizotypal, and schizoid. And you know what? I'm proud of it. Because this is the way God made me. If you have a problem with that, take it up with Him. Having emotions is human nature. I can't be happy all the time; I'm not a sunshine or a fuckin' flower. The world isn't all bright and sunny all the time, and if you don't realize that, you need to wake up.

Getting back to my birthday. During this dumb celebration, I went outside to kick my new soccer ball around when my neighbor threw a water balloon at me. Then my brother comes over and squirts me with a water gun. When I went to chase his ass down and beat the shit out of him, my other neighbor threw a bucketful of water at my new shorts, and I was soaked.

I went inside to change, and I was literally shaking with anger. Not only am I soaking wet, but I have to be sung to by my retarded relatives. It's already bad enough to have to be sung to, so it's even worse when you're seething with anger and your dumbass relatives joke around about it. They were treating my anger like some kind of joke.

After suffering through a round of "Happy Birthday", I got some cake and took it downstairs, half-halfheartedly trying to eat it. By the time I went back upstairs, most of my relatives were gone, so I went outside to bike a little.

I still had presents to open when I got back inside, and thankfully everyone had left. I took the gifts downstairs to open in my room. My grandmother got me a purse (what the fuck.), great-aunt and uncle got me some gardening shit (what the fuck.), and my aunt got me a shirt (what the fuckitty fuck fuck). Do I look like a girl who carries around a purse everywhere? No. I have pockets, and if I do need to carry anything else, I use my backpack. Not some dumb-fuck purse. And gardening stuff? Why the hell would you get me that? Our garden is 3 feet by 5 feet, needless to say it's a tiny fucking garden! It's not big enough to give gifts for. A shirt? I'm fine with the clothes I have. You wanna know what I really wanted for my birthday? NOTHING. Because every damn year, my relatives never fail to give me the shittiest gifts possible, and it's always something ridiculously girly. I'M AN ASPIRING MECHANIC, NOT A GODDAMN FLOWER.

I hate everything.