Today, my bluetooth keyboard Typkey had broke. The 9 and 0 keys no longer work. So today I go to the next keyboard, Typkey white edition! Why do I say that? Well, Typkey, the first, was a black keyboard, the new Typkey, second edition, is a white keyboard. Where did I get the new Typkey? My sister Ashley. See, for whatever reason she can't use bluetooth on her tablet, which is the same kid of tablet as mine, so I get why. So now the white keyboard is mine. Though when I get a job I'm going to but a new black keyboard for myself, maybe a laptop. I don't know. I just like the color black more than the color white. IN an object way. Like I would rather have more darker colored shirts than lighter color shirts. I'm not saying I like black people more than white people. Sorry, this Update went into a racist turn. I didn't mean for it too. I'm really sorry. Anyway, the color of things don't really matter, it's how they work is what matters.
If you read my last few Updates I do apologize. They have been short. For a feww reasons. The first one was that I was playing Destiny 2, the second one, well I don't remember the second one, and the last one I had punched myself in the head to get a picture out of it. No! Out!
No punchies this time, Kevin. No punchies.
Sorry, the picture that I forced out of my head through pain was...well...I-I don't really know how to talk about it. I don't really want to talkk about it.
carp. carps all around. Dagnabbit. Curse this brain that seeks to cause emotional pain to thyself! sorry. I made myself sad, again for like the hundreth time. well, more then that. it's a high number. see, the other day, like a few weeks ago Mah went ot the bar to shoot pool, which is what she does on Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday nights. she came home a little buzzed, or drunk, i don't really know. i was on the computer...writting? Hey! just because i write a lot does not mean i do it 24/7. anyway. so Mah came home, i was on the computer, and Ashley was watching something on the TV in the living room. Mah then went on to tell us stories. it went from her getting a perfect 40 that night during pool, then something else, then how she thinks she failed me as a mother...and i can't get that out of my head. see, she thinks she failed me because she wants that kind of relation ship where i can tell her anything and everything without worry. she had that same relationship with her father, her mother hated her, and it was not a secret. she wanted a boy, but Mah came out as a girl. blah blah blah, grandma died and Mah's birthday. anyway, so Mah thinks she failed me as a mother. see, my brothers and sister talk to her. personal stuff and all that. the reason I can't talk to her is, well...i don't really know. it hurts me to think that Mom actually thinks she failed me. she didn't fail me. i failed her. i guess i'm afraid to admit it to her. Mom would direct the blame to herself, when it really is all my fault. it's all because of me why i can't speak to her, or anyone much. sure there have been those that i have let inside. Jannessa, Megan, Olivia, and i beleive that was it? see there was a questoin mark, i don't know if there was anyone else. anyway. ive been able to tell them everything. i let them in. and now, i shut them out. each for a different reason. see, i was able to tell Mom everything before. i was 7 i think when i stopped, i don't know why i stopped. Mom was always the person i could handle. she wasn't like anyone else. not bruce, dad, James, or Ashley. she liked me. and i'm not saying that they don't like me, but there has been a dislike for a lifetime, my lifetime. anyway, for whatever reason i can't bring anything up to her. though there are times when i have. nothing that could lead to anything personal. like i can explain to her the details about a game i was playing, and she would listen, and it always felt like she was llistening, even when she would rather listen to the radio in the car. actually, i think i know why i don't talk to her much. becuase everytime i do talk to her, like actually talk to her is when we are in the car alone. because there there was no one who could listen in on what i was saying. no one that could stand outside the door and listen in on what i'm saying. no one to secretly judge me from outside the doorway to the room. i guess that is why i don't talk to her much. i don't really know.
no i'm thinking of Jannessa. she's not exting me. why would she? she only texts like once a week to show she hasn't forgotten me. and the time between these texts are growing larger and larger. at first by a few minutes each day, then it became hours, then days. and soon it will be weeks. then months. then never again will she remember me. i'll become a thread of words in the back of her mind. a small string of memories soon to burn within the fires of forgotten thoughts.
. . .
