nights like these.

its cold. i want to turn the heat on, but i wont because i layer. surrounding me in my living room are pictures of family. things forgotten mostly. to me, these pictures seem fake. who are these people? what happened here?

i m a complete stranger to my family. They drink to much, i know i do, but i realize that i don't like too they way they do. i don't like drugs, which i know they do. i don't eat the foods they eat. i don't watch sports like they do. i don't like much of anything they do.

i just can't relate. i can't talk about music to them because they don't listen. which bums out cause i love music so much. it d be to just sit and listen to some with my sister. my father could care less about anything so i won't even bother. i wear this face when i m with them. i m not sure which face it is but its not mine. its not me. i ll avoid contact with my father as much as possible.

listen to me ramble. i can't even form proper sentences over it. my mind just pours it out and i have to type it. it bugs me that much. i m all alone in this house, which i hate. but i hate it more when any of them are here.

i wonder what mom would think. i never got to know the woman. but i have a feeling we wouldn't have gotten a long that much. it d be nice to see though, how things would have turned out if she never got sick. whos to say anything would have changed.

so all i have are these pictures, a glass of wine and death cab for cutie. i think i ll pack the pictures and move this pity party to the bed.

i can't fix them. they wont change me. "people will always do what they want, and you can't ever change that fact. so why bother worrying about it." truth.

in other news:

i m still in love with this band.