Always as in most of the time.

I am a happy person. I really am. Except when I get to my mom's house.. then I question my happiness. This is probably the worst thing I could do to myself. All I want is to be able to look up and see a shooting star, and be able to let it go, because I have nothing to wish for. That's not the case though..
When I look at the whole happiness situation while I'm somewhere other than my mother's house, everything is ok. I can tell myself that I actually am happy, and I can actually believe it.
It's just when I get to my mom's house..
My mom. My mom and her girlfriend. My mom, her girlfriend, and my sister. Me. When my sister and I are dropped off after school at my mom's house, and everyone says hi to everyone, all hell brakes loose, basically.
No one can get along, everyone gets depressed, it's a big fucking mess.
I of course think it's my fault, because they don't fight when I'm not there. The thing is, as time passes, (see, it's been this way for about 6-7 years.) I come to find that I give less of a fuck every time a fight erupts. I can't decide if this is a good thing or a bad thing.

But I'm sitting here at the park now, and I look up to see what? A shooting star. And the only thing I'm wishing for is: "A place to come home to that won't offer shitty feelings and increase my strength to hold back tears, because, well, that shouldn't be necessary, right?"

Most.

Most teenagers want to drive to go to the mall on the weekend or something. I want to drive so I can get out of this fucking house.

Just for one night..

Um..

For once I don't have anything to say, let alone complain about.

This is good, I guess I'm happy. :)

Its been a while.

I suppose this will be one of those cliché times, where I make an account on some type of blogging site, and then forget about it a minute later.


Just kidding, I now have the app, so everything's fine.

Not like anyone cares. :)