She's too happy.

Everyone knows there shouldn't be a limit on happiness. There isn't, not even to me, and I've felt as though I'd reached the limits, at points.

But that's only true happiness. That isn't the type I'm seeing, now. I know she's never this happy unless--

"Are you drunk?"

"Yes." She laughs like this is a joke.

"Seriously?"

"Not seriously...just a little."

I go blind. The dining room is covered in a fog, and I can't help but notice how beautiful the Christmas tree looks, with the lights glowing, all kind of becoming one big mess of color. Like shiny wrapping paper.

And then I'm quiet, staring at the ground, hoping for her to just...magically sober up. Thinking about how much I hate this. How little she knows.

"Are you sad?"

"Why do you ask?"

She sits in a stupor, trying to pinpoint a reason. "I dunno."

I don't respond.

Yes, I'm sad. I'm disappointed that you decided to get drunk on the night we open presents. You're the reason I put down my camera. You. You're the reason my eyes were trained on the ground, you're the reason I don't cry anymore when I'm upset.

I know it does nothing.

My cold is taking me over...I have to get off.

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I hate it when there's conflict over my chose religion.

Firstly, I'm agnostic. You don't have to agree with that. It doesn't matter to me. If you're Christian, you're fine letting me know that I'm going to Hell, and when I do find out He exists, it'll be too late. I'm fine with THAT.

But I am certainly NOT alright with being chewed out in front of the class for not believing what someone else believes. By the end of class, I was shaking with anger. Anyone who believes they have the right to yell at someone in the name of "witnessing" a person is pretty much full of bullshit. I don't care WHAT the Bible says, you do not attack someone for his or her beliefs system. Especially when you've just been informed that the religion you're attacking exists.

Because, honestly. If I wanted to hear the same stuff over and over again--"You know you're going to Hell. Wouldn't you like to go to Heaven? Yeah? Then why don't you believe? You ain't gonna get up there without it"--then I would fucking call a priest and debate it for a few hours. But I do not come to school to be attacked for what I believe in. I come to burn a few hours between breakfast and dinner.

It was just ridiculous. I gave all the reasons I could for why I'm NOT a Christian, for why I AM agnostic, and she just kept trying to push her God on me. And I'm just sitting here like, This is bullshit. I have never been attacked for what I believe in so strongly, not even by a certain friend I could mention. :p It just doesn't seem right. I could do the same to the person who did it to me, except reverse it, saying, "And what COMPLETE evidence do you have on the existence of God? Do you have something He Himself wrote, or was it all just written by man? Are you truly comfortable in reading a book written by men, believing what they say, and fearing the consequences of NOT following the rules they wrote? Where's your proof that any of this is real?"

Of course, I wouldn't. I only answered this person's questions. I don't think it's fair to attack something like religion, no matter what. This is what forms wars. This is what makes people hate each other, see each other differently. I know she glanced more at me at lunch that day, probably seeing my entire personality as something so different. She might not like me as much. I guess that, just as religion can pull people together, different ones can pull them apart.

It's kind of sad. I wish she hadn't pulled the God thing with the abortion argument. She started using it, and I was like, "Don't even bother using that one--I'm agnostic."

Because yep, I'm also Pro-Choice.

Conflict, conflict everywhere.

But you know what? Even though I, personally, think it is COMPLETELY morally wrong, I can't tell other women what to do.

Guess that rubs people the wrong way. A lot about me does that to strong Christians, I'm finding. ...Really, I'm kind of their worst nightmare. For gay marriage, pro-choice on abortion, agnostic (at least I'm not atheist), completely left-wing liberal...

Man oh man.

This probably means I can never step foot into a church ever again. XP

...Dunno. I always seem to make this stuff into a joke, but I was super-offended by the way she chose to not "witness," but rather kind of attack. She wouldn't let me get a word in to explain what my beliefs are. All she wanted to do was push hers on me. I don't blame her as a Christian, but I certainly blame her as a fellow person and student. Everyone should know better by now. You're not going to change my beliefs, you're just going to offend me and probably make me very angry.

I guess people are usually right when they say that if you want to stay friends with someone, don't talk about controversial stuff. And I wasn't even friends with this person to begin with.

Yikes.

So, there's my problem for today. I don't understand why people can't just be curious and ask questions, instead of brutally belief-raping someone. I'd tell people anything about it that they want to know, and I'd listen back, if it was in a calm tone and just discussion. I think people let their beliefs get the best of them too often.

-sigh-

Can't we all just get along?!


EDIT:
I started obsessing about it a little, and now I'm wondering: why not "witness" a someone of a religion that has a different higher being? We both don't necessarily believe in God.
I don't know. I just think some people are really messed up. It bothers me.

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(10:03:04 PM) wiseguysupreme4: OK.
(10:07:52 PM) wiseguysupreme4: Stop being angry.
(10:11:55 PM) romanticocabrita: No!

Because, basically, I can't.

I get in the SUV, and Logan gets in the other side. Mum turns the music up too loud--The Talking Heads, no less (which I don't have a problem with, but Logan might).

This, for some reason, makes me angry. Generally, then, she was making me angry, just by the vibe I was getting from her. It was too flippant...the aura she was sending off was one of too much care-freeness for my mother.

But I ignored it, hoping she was just happy about having a good job and just taking the pets on a walk.

We pulled out into the street, and as we rode along, the music got higher. She got more obnoxious. When I told her to turn the music down (because I have really sensitive ears, and can't tolerate most loud volumes, much less high pitches), she ignored me and turned it up more. Either that, or she wasn't conscious of the world around her.

We took the normal turns around the neighborhood, and soon we were at Logan's house, safely. I breathed. Maybe things were alright, after all. She turned down the music once he was out of the car and she was pulling away.

I missed him already, realizing what was going on.

"Did you have a good time?" she slurred.

"Yeah," I replied, trying to ignore the bumps in the road, concentrating on a good thought, hoping I'd be left from this to have more good thoughts, praying we'd get home safely.

"That's good."

Before I could say anything else, the music was ripped up to a horrifyingly high, obnoxious volume. She started singing along; I wanted to open a window to maybe get rid of the overwhelming blasting in my ears, to let some of my frustration blow away in the cold wind.

But, she had her window open, and I could feel the chill settling in over the car's heated leather seats. Listening in pain for a few minutes sounded better than freezing, or even causing a confrontation because of a too-cold car.

Every traffic light was a blur of green to my eyes, worried and fogged by my too-dry contacts. I wanted to throw up.

No, I wanted to hit her. By the time we reached home, I was finding it hard to breathe with her in the same vicinity. Her mere presence suffocated me, constricting my lungs to the point where I was close to having a full-on asthma attack.

I got out of the SUV quickly, making sure not to bump the side-mirror. She crashed out, scattering the newspapers under her feet. I noticed how disgusting our garage is.

Getting inside, I felt even more tension in my throat rising, waiting to escape. This was beyond anger. This was fury.

It wasn't because of us; I couldn't be as angry about that. I didn't care about myself, and I certainly didn't care about her. The only thing I could think of was that she'd put someone I love in danger. That she was willing to just go ahead and risk his life, so long as he got out of the house on time.

I told her she would never drive him anywhere again in the state she was in ("You take care of each other, now," Logan's mum had said, when I last saw her. I'm going to live up to that promise). She took offense and started yelling.

"This is my life, it's none of your business," she wailed. "I'm--I'm still alive!"

"Yeah," I said, looking in the pantry for some crackers to have with the cheese I'd sliced. "This is your life. Your drinks. But when he is in the car, it isn't just your life anymore."

It's most of mine, too. I won't lose him.

She yelled after me, screeching something about me pulling my weight in the house. Eyes turning cold, I glided up the stairs, glad she hadn't heard me leave. I loved that she was making a fool of herself, yelling at no one.

After that...I just sat down and had a snack. This is the same speech I've gotten a thousand times. It's her life, she can do what she likes with it. It's none of my business what she does with her time. She needs to..."calm down, relax," after a long day at work.

It was only when I thought about what I would have done if she'd killed Logan, that I burst into tears.

Family doesn't mean as much as it used to.

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You could say I'm angry. It's not because of not receiving a "real" response.

It's because I keep wanting to redeem myself. I can't stand the thought of losing anyone, no matter how much I can despise the person, at times.

I suppose, in this case, it may be inevitable.

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I don't understand why some songs remind me of childhood. Iron & Wine's song "Love and Some Verses" makes me think of the summer days, back in Pennsylvania, when my mum would have the Weather Channel on, and we'd run around, and she'd garden, and Teddy (the dog we lost to age, six years and a month or so ago) and I would be best friends.

My eyes start misting, knowing that this song will someday stop reminding me of those days.

This is the only time I can see the inside of my house. I remember weird little things, like what my room looked like, and how I'd break out of a crib. How I wasn't thinking, just feeling a longing to be with my parents. Where the TV was. How high up light switches used to seem.

The color golden rod, and how that was the color of the summer world, in my memories.

The dandelions my mum was planting, when I wore my sunflower dress, and how Ted trotted beside me, always protecting me.


Things have changed. Instead of basing actions on feeling, I have to think about the consequences, and the reason behind the action, what's to gain. Instead of longing to be with my parents, I long to escape. Instead of knowing what the sun feels like, and remembering noticing that, I know useless geometry, and what color I want my room.

Useless, useless, useless.

Not to me, it isn't useless if I want to succeed. But do I? What am I gaining? Money? Pride? A pretty diploma for my wall?

Instead of knowing things, being something, all the time, every waking or resting moment for the rest of my life, can I not simply bask in existence?

Oh, to be simple again, unfilled by lessons and understanding. To have a language no one could pull apart, not knowing what being grown-up is like, to not ever have to grow up.

I envy Peter Pan with all my heart. He can run away to another world where they accept people who can't accept aging, where they don't have to, where they won't.

I don't think I'd mind never seeing death. I'd take everyone I want there with me, so we could all live and be fulfilled by each other--where we could learn again to not worry about anything. Where we'll just bask in existence for days, realizing how beautiful the shade of every blue sky is, no matter how little the difference is between shades.

I just want to appreciate life at its simplest, again. It's sad, how we all do, we just don't remember it.

It's unfair, is what it is.

But, life was never fair.

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Gahr.

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