I called on Jesus but he didn't check his phone today.

So, i find myself trying to relax, because i should be excited about tomorrow, right? i'm supposed to be looking forward to this grand day, and do not get me wrong, as i've been SO excited lately, but thanks to my mother it's so absurdly difficult to enjoy anything at all and just feel good about anything.
not only is she the most judgmental person i think i've ever known ("So, how DOES he pay for an apartment and a car and food with a job at Wendy's?") she's also the most selfish and manipulative, by far. my brother will agree.
the second i feel as if things are going to be different in a beautiful way she has to stand in the way of it. she's great at that.
she expects me to fuck up; she expects me to end up pregnant in this dead end town because that's just where my great judgment will get me, right? even though she "knows" i will make the right decisions in other areas of my life, when it concerns sex, it seems as though she thinks my body is going to completely take over and decide for me. and i know the biology of it. i know that the physicality matters but when you're mature about it, then deciding against what your body wants isn't like being under the influence of some powerful drug; if you're an idiot about it, or just reaaaallllyyy unlucky, you'll end up pregnant, or with some disease. but if you're mature about it and educated about it (and fuck, i've been Googling EVERYTHING since i first had my hands on a computer), that won't be the case.
because that's not who i am, that's not what i'm going to be. she needs to understand that. she tells me i have a brain, and that i use it, but then goes on to contradict that. constantly.
she tells me i'm mature, and that i need to be treated like an adult. but she treats me like a child.
i understand it's some stupid mother complex, the whole "uber protection" deal, but i swear, if this is what being a mother means, then please, shame on me if i ever give birth and treat any poor kid like that.
it's like an unwritten law that every parent forgets what it was like to be a teenager.
they tell us that when you hit thirty, you have everything figured out: you're ready to have a family, hold a good job, buy a house---all the things that actually matter, right? you're totally capable of saying no to sex, drugs, alcohol, and rock and roll, and you always use that strength because you're 30 and officially smart, right?
tell me how many sane, happy, and perfect 30-somethings YOU know?
maybe if they invited a little youth into their lives, perhaps some understanding and fulfillment would come into play. but once you hit thirty you become exceptionally good at this thing called "denial". every parent's got it. it's like a motherfucking virtue.

if you know your teenager is working with the maturity of a 6 year old, then by all means, treat them as such, but if your seventeen year old girl actually has a good head on her shoulders and keeps away from trouble, then please, do not treat her like a degenerate because she IS NOT ONE. and when it comes to the friends she hangs out with, until they give you a reason to think otherwise, it's best not to assume they're disrespectful sleazes.


it's about respect, and empathy, and understanding, and communication.
four things most people, young or old, don't have.
but should definitely check out.

oh, ageism.

It's over.

Can't bring myself to really understand that my rehearsals and performances of The Miracle Worker have come to a final end. I don't want to write about it tonight. I will when it hits me.
I'm going to write a letter to Parsons. She can't leave without hearing one more thing from me.


Strike that, I wrote a letter to Parsons. Damn, things feel so far away.