My brother killed the computer again.
I am typing this here update from a computer that we purchased in 1994 that doesn't even have enough RAM to accomodate AOL 4.0 which we all know is out of date because of the exhaustive 7.0 commercials on television.
Let's get one things straight. I'm not angry and depressed because of the computer being broken. Sure, I'm peeved as all hell, and would love to smack my 'brother' upside the head with a shovel, but that's now why I'm so upset. I'm so upset because, you see, things like this are mere reminders of all the fucked up shit I've had to deal with living around these .. I guess you could call them people, but don't people have consciences and compassion? Anyway.
So everything on the old computer, after we paid $200 to get it fixed? Gone. Even after I figured out how to dredge up what remained on there, it's fuck all to that now.
This old computer that I am on now is reliable, and it is mine, but guess what? One weekend while I was gone my parents ganked it and put it in my brother's room without asking me.
"He needs a computer to play his games on." That's what they told me. What the fuck? I need a computer to write my future best-selling novel on, but his games are more important?
The only reason they were able to gank it (GET THIS) is because I had to put it in the basement for a while, as I had no desk (and no room for one, since they take all of their old furniture and make me put it in my room, guess how much walking space I have? About 1.5 feet). The reason I had no desk was because they took that away from me too, so they could use it. Then they bought another one, broke down and threw away mine.
How I adore them.
So THEN, when I had a fit about my brother getting MY computer all to himself just to play his stupid fucking games, they say, "Well, Katie, we have another one. It's newer and faster, and you weren't even using yours in the first place, it was in the basement."
"That's cos I had no desk and I couldn't fit it in my fucking room!"
"Well, you don't need it."
Have a dream? Give it to my family and they will crush it in two seconds flat. Have something valuable? Keep it out of California, they will find it and destroy it.
Their destruction makes me want to destroy myself.
Get this... my mom isn't mad at my brother for killing the computer. She is mad at ME because I can't fix it.
WHAT THE FUCK? Just because I have a very limited knowledge of only the most basic HTML, I'm supposed to suddenly have a technical institute education?
Anyway, Germany was great and I'd love to talk about it, but things are kaput.
Also, I got two wonderful shotglasses in the mail while I was abroad from the coolest cat ever to grace livejournal's face.
Thank you, darling.
So I guess I won't be seeing much of you guys... even though I am home.
I'm going to go propose that my brother is only allowed to use a computer that is so old and slow you can't download anything, he can only use it for his schoolwork in half an hour heavily supervised periods, and in such a way that he is logged in and can only use certain programmes. He will only be allowed a heavily restricted hotmail account that he is only allowed to access once a week.
No wait, that's a perfect world. That couldn't happen. He is a fucking virus destruction magnet. And he lies about it too.
I'm moving out and these people will never hear from me again. They are the ones I've grown to hate over years of favouritism and trying to correct their wrongs by buying me shit.
My father kicked me out when I was 17, so I left and stayed with a friend for two days, and then went back to see if I could get all of my shit.
My mother, who didn't object to the kicking-out, hugged me and said she was sorry. The next day I woke up and found a DVD Player at the foot of the bed.
I grew up thinking that people could fix everything and buy your love with possessions, which is why I am so wretched and spoiled and fucked up now.
That's not how it works.
Fuck these people. No amount of material possessions in the world could correct all of the injustices inflicted. Not even the secret service could hide the favouritism that my parents are so fond of.
My brother has ADD, therefore he's always had to have more attention and that sort of thing. That was fine, I'd always been really independent...
But now, when I am breaking down, and very little is left of me, all the attention still goes to him. I was so independent that they are deaf to my few cries to them for help (I never ask them for help, the results are disatrous! Sometimes I go braindead and think I can talk to them, and then I realise I don't talk to them because doing so only makes me want to kill myself. I call on other people for help a lot, because I can't get it here.). I am drowning in a world that hates me and they don't care because he's around. I am the beacon of shame to them, the adopted child gone terribly awry.
Fuck that. If I'm not out in a year, I'm going to take myself out. Way out. Satan's company out.
Until then I'm gonna live that fast life that they were always afraid I'd live, and all of their humiliations will be a reality. It won't just be bad grades and hospital stays embarassing them. It will be drug addictions, arrests, alcoholism, rampant promiscuity. I should give them everything they fear, as they seem to want it so terribly.
Meanwhile, I will be gaining experiences and travelling to new places, and perhaps becoming a better writer because of it.
I will miss you.