Anyways, my sister freaked out on me for flipping off the light and almost crushed my hand in the door, my dad practically went ballistic! And I couldn't help thinking that if I had the chance to run away at this very moment, I definitely would. I'm tired of this family. I'm tired of being a part of it if there's no family to be a part of. I'm not kidding. My family has been torn in half and it's really really exhausting. I'm tired of dealing with this. I can't wait to be 18. Just two more long years of this, and I'll finally be on my own. Of course, I have no idea what I'll be doing then, but at least I won't be surrounded by people who hate me as much as I hate politics. (Um, hello! Who enjoys that?!)
Oh, I completely forgot to tell you guys why I puked. I made dinner for everyone today and my dad criticized it, telling me the meat was most likely not cooked right. I was pretty sure I did it right. He started puking fifteen minutes later, but it was only because he pukes like, all the time. Not on purpose, he just says it happens sometimes which kind of makes me wonder why. Cancer, maybe? Look, anyways, it just made me think about how long it's been since I've done it, and I also really felt like I needed to, so I went to the bathroom, locked the door, turned on the faucet, and began puking down the toilet. Pasta is definitely not enjoyable coming back up. But at least I got it all out. Ew.
Until next time.