A Better Son/Daughter

Okay. So I've decided that no matter how hard I try (or don't try, in some cases), I will never make my parents happy with me for more than a week. I have a stepmom and a dad, and they often are both frustrated and pissed off at me to no end. Sometimes, I just feel like I can't so anything right. So, I listen to the Rilo Kiley song "Better Son/Daughter" and it just makes me feel better. I need to feel better right now. I sort of feel like I just want to run, as fast and as far as I can. Somewhere where nobody will find me. Ever.

Observations

I have this thing. When I'm in teh car, I tend to observe. Well, actually, scratch that; I observe everywhere. But especially in the car. I mean, it's amazing the people you see.As I am sitting in my car as I drive to school, hundreds of people's lives are passing me by. Some of them, I can get a snapshot of their life. Whether they are a student at the community college that I pass by each morning, a gardener, a bum, a "gangsta", a kid like me, a soccer mom, a businessman, a trashy girl with big earrings and chonga hair. Living in South Florida, I basically see everyone your parents have told you to stay away from since you were about 5. All grouped into one long stretch of road which hundreds travel each morning.

It's amazing, though. As I see these people, I think of myself in their lives. WHO are they? What are their secrets? It's sort of like that cool book "Post Secret", where everyone writes in their secrets anonymously. Except I'm on the other end, imagining their secrets, kind of inventing them myself. People's lives are crazy.

I think, somebody, I'm going to write a book about something like that. Different people's lives, thoughts, as they interact with one another but not really interacting. More like coexisting than actually taking an active role in the person's life. Anyways. Yeah. Observations.

Drugs or Me

Trying to write
Feels like taking a brick
And throwing it into my chest.
It's making me hurt
But I need to write.
So here I go:

My eyes feel like crying
But I can't
No
I won't
Because I left you.
You didn't leave me.
I said goodbye, get out of my life.
So why am I here?
Stuck to this seat
My heart hurting
Because I've you turned to stone?
An apathetic drone?
Soothed by DXM and Xanax and other X meds?

It's not my fault
I know
I don't think it's yours
So who's is it?
Pop culture?
Americana?
Who knows.

All I have to say is
Sorry
For hurting you and continuing
To stir up whatever emotion is left inside of you.

There.
There's my apology.
My first time writing in months.
And it's all for you.

Ok. First Post.

Ok. HI. I'm Caitlin.

I used to blog, and I stopped. So I guess this is just me getting back into the swing of things. I hadn't really planned on starting to blog again, but today some drama popped up in my life that I really need to just get down or I feel like I might explode.

I used to date this kid who was a habitual drug user/drinker, and he quit using for me. When I broke up with him, he fell into a lull of using again. Apparantly now, he is getting heavy into drugs, heavier than he ever was, where he is never NOT using; he is in a habitual state of numb. He's hurting himself, and I feel it's my fault. He's been calling me alot, but I have a phobia of answering the phone for him. I guess I think if I actually talk to him, I'll date him again. Iuno. All I know is that he's basically killing himself and I'm in between a rock and a hard place.

So that's it for my first post. More later. From me, Caitlin.