oh, this motherfucking house!

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not even back 24 hours and the poison is already reaching my brain. most people love me because i shake things up; not my dad’s wife. to her i am an inkblot on the kitchen counter. not even the strongest spray can get rid of me entirely. my dad, brother and sister are all happy to see me cuz i’m a blip in the routine but my dad’s wife just sighs a lot and mutters to herself. i asked to use the oven to bake vegan apple-cinnamon muffins & from the reaction i got, you’d think i had asked to smoke crack or something! seriously, people, it’s muffins! home made muffins! how much more wholesome can you get? but she went away for a while so now the house is full of the scent of delicious baked goods plus the sound of queer rock & hip-hop that makes liberal use of the dreaded f word.
as much as it sucked, i am glad my ass was kicked out young, so i didn’t get complacent like so many of my friends. being on my own as a teenager caused lots of trouble, emotional scars, serious nutritional deficiencies & a drinking prob, but it also made me very self-reliant & with the knowledge that i can survive just about anything. it saddens me how many of my friends who are my age & older are still rotting away with their parental units cuz they’re scared. fuck being scared! did you hear me? FUCK BEING SCARED! being scared is a luxury. being scared is a cop-out. being scared is for the weak; and although i have many, many personality flaws, being weak (usually) isn’t one of them.
on a completely diff note, the muffins are done! so i must go!. (update: i burned them and laughed like a psychopath)

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