Ranting

I know, I know. I'm greatly overdue for an update. I actually have an idea at the moment--I've been trying to write a story from the mindset of a criminal for quite some time now. Once I have it more fleshed out and am assured that this one will actually have a chance of being written all the way, I'll expand.

Right now, though? I really need a ranting day.

It's a bit of wondering just how often people actually think of what they're doing--in regards to people other than themselves. There's no question that we're the most selfish species. Honestly, we decided to build civilizations that destroy the Earth we sit upon for the good of ourselves. We look upon any other organism as subordinate and either hunt it or cage it. We're ass holes. But I would hope we could be at least a little more open-minded and kind to those of our own bloody species!

False hopes, I know.

I get a lot of homework. I'm in a mess of AP classes, so that's really no surprise. I always get it done, and I never really cause a problem about it. I just sit at the kitchen table and work. Same as my older siblings did before me. Granted, I take many breaks and pace about on occasions with an overlarge workload, but I never actually do anything else until my work is done. (Unless it's a weekend or break. This changes everything. Or it's an essay. Then I generally push it off--I'm a procrastinator in nature.)

If it's dinnertime, I move without question until afterwords. I don't think I cause problems. Not really. I listen to my Zune and ignore the people that attempt to talk to me, pretending that I can't still hear them. Eventually, they give up. Or else they pull at my earphones and I glare daggers at them for disturbing me.

Before me, my eldest sister and my brother went to high school while I was still in elementary/middle school. I was often scorned by my mother to be quite for them while they did their homework. Now, that same brother calls my cousin and they and my other sister decide to have a game of Monopoly where I'm working. Though they scream and curse at each other in such games, they are not scorned. No, after attempting desperately to do anything of my homework, I have to resign to move to my garage.

The heater is mutinous and has never worked for me, and so I'm dreadfully cold. I steal one of my father's jackets and filch his slippers and I set myself up to continue working. It is not long before he arrives home from work, though, and he steals his slippers back. He turns the television on and starts attempting to talk to me. I cannot shut him out. I can think of no place to go, nor no way to go without being rude. I must sit and wait for dinner--after they finish their game of Monopoly.

After dinner, the table is a mess. Disgusting and repulsive. However, it is not my job to clean it, and I refuse to. My sister, wherever she is, is not doing her chores. And I will not do my homework on something so grotesque. I walk back to the garage, where my things still reside, but it is after dinner now, and most everyone is out there. Loud and annoying, eager to play card games. Again, I resign bitterly to move.

My mother sees me later emerging from the backroom with my flash drive as she cleans the dishes--my chore. She doesn't say a word, but she doesn't look happy either. It takes all I have not to say something biting.


My sister, two weeks short of a year older than me, decides that she wants to get her nose pierced. And so it is done.

Without even informing my parents of her decision, she makes plans with her friend to go for it after school. As they are my daily ride, I am to go as well. Without being informed.

She asks me in the morning if I care about going somewhere with them after school. I can say nothing, not really. It is either them or take the bus--something repulsive to me as both a misanthrope and one who suffers from migraines. I shrug my shoulders.

Walking in to school, I always fall behind them. I do not care to keep up, I rather like to drag my hand against the walls and feel my surroundings. It is here that she mentions it to her friend, making sure that she remembers where it is. I feel only bitterness.

I would stay after school instead of sharing in her crime. Knowingly or unknowlingly. And I would return home to a still missing sister and a mother who didn't even know that she was going somewhere with her friend.


In an AP class, filled with students supposedly of greater knowledge and better actions, I must have more enemies than I thought (and I really do know of an abnormally large number for the average person).

In a group presentation, I raise my hand from the moment the audience is allowed to ask questions. Others do to, and so the group works across the room calling on people. More raise their hands and are called on before myself. Then more. Then someone starts pointing out that my hand is raised. Others are called upon. He points this out again. Another points to me. More are called upon. I give up, resting my head upon my desk in defeat. At the end of the period, the teacher calls upon me. I thank her, bitingly, the best I find I can do to not scream, and then ask my measely clarification question.


A brother, a mother, a sister, a group. There are more examples, surely. But I suppose by now my narration will be tiring.

I suppose I can almost understand the group. After all, I'm not especially renowned as a nice or good person. I very likely did something to them in the past, as I have to many, and then simply forgot about it. Or perhaps they dislike me for things I have said to others. Then again, two of them were deeply religious--Catholic sects. The only religion that I truly cannot stand for all that it has done to and against me. I very likely angered them, at least.

But my family? That's ridiculous. Does no body think of what their actions will bring?

I'm certainly not nice, but that doesn't mean I don't constantly think and overthink what my actions will cause. Yes, I have slip-ups--but they are generally within the few people I truly trust and care about. And then I constantly check that they are not mad at me.

What has happened to us? Humans. Why are we so cruel?