for fucks sake

you call me just to have a fucking go at me, where's the point in that!?
i'm getting a job, stop fucking going on about it, just because i don't get a call back 0.0000435234 seconds after i've handed in the cv doensn't mean that i haven't handed any in! and they tell me that it's going to be really really hard because of the university students coming back and filling up all of the vacancies but you don't really care about that do you? you just want me to earn money so i can give it to you. like that £500 wasn't enough. and you've spent all of that on your debts and not on christmas like you said you would. yeah, thanks. you don't even care about the fact that i seriously hate mcdonalds, and i'd rather dive into a vat of acid than go work in there. it's not that i just don't want to work there. it's the smell. and the fact stalker boy works there.

but then again it's another thing you don't care about.
and wanting me there all the time, having control over my life. i'm fed up of it! i'm nearly 17, and far more mature than you think i am. i've gone through far more than any normal 17 year old; but then again i doubt you'd care about that either. i can't be with you doing stuff around the house and i can't be with dad doing all of his stuff around the house and i can't spend time with my nan because she's lonely and i can't do work for college because the twats gave me shit to do all over the holidays and i can't go to work ALL AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME.
i'm not superwoman.
stop treating me that way.

and if you read this by some stroke of coincidence or weird chance.
i don't care.
this is what i think.
kick me out if you want to, that less stuff off of my mind.
if dad carries on how he's going, i'll consider myself an orphan.
you can get emancipations here, can't you?


oh and here's a question for you:
Do you know what depression is?
Because I sure as hell do.
And when I was in Coventry with Grace,
I've never laughed so much in my life.
But then again, you don't care about that.