–July 28, 2003
>Marilyn Manson - Rock Is Dead (Video)
>Marilyn Manson - The Last Day On Earth
Well, yesterday sucked. I wanted to go to Rite-Aid to get leather care products. (My mom needs to use the phone, but fuck her, she can use grandma and grandpa’s phone, you’ll see why I’m saying this once you read the entry.) I bugged her all day, and finally she said okay, that if I got ready we would go after my grandparents got back from their medical appointment. I took a shower, and got ready (in an outift that was structured around my new boots). I went into my mom’s room to check my e-mail. She started bitching that I’d walked all around Manhattan in those boots and that they shouldn’t be on her floor, and that she doesn’t like shoes on her floor, blah blah blah fucking blah. Realizing she wasn’t going to shut up, I said out of exasperation with her inane phobia about germs, “fuck you.” She screamed like a madman and lunged towards me, “GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!!!!!!!”. I have no fucking privacy in my room, Grandma and Grandpa go in and out of my room as they please (in their shoes, no less). I have no lock on my door, what the fuck? It’s a fucking double standard. I watched TV until my grandparents got back, then wanted to call Mindy and relate this new plateau of my mother’s insanity, but my mom had the door locked. “I won’t let you in until you’ve cooled down”, she taunted. I was as cooled as I was going to get, and the bitch was fucking pissing me off. I have two lifelines in this New Jersey hell of oppression, confinement, and emotional servitude to everyone but myself. The first lifeline is phone calls to my friends, the second, journal posts and e-mails to my friends/relatives in California. When deprived of this, I go insane simply because without lifelines this becomes a real prison as opposed to a simulacrum. Total control. It’s what my mom lusts over. I went away for a few minutes, then asked again. “Why don’t you use Grandma and Granpa’s phone?” “Because I need to make a long-distance call.” “I’m not paying for your long-distance calls, they’re a privelege, not a right” “Well, if using the line is a privelege and not a right, using my phone is a privelege.” There was no response. “I want my phone back.” “Open the door.” No response. I began to grow angrier and angrier. I went down, poured the bottle of hair color developer she’d just bought down the drain, watched some more TV, then went up and asked her again. She would not open it. She wanted me to beg or something. I will never impugn my dignity for her sadistic pleasure gained from complete and utter subjugation of my soul. I went downstairs, took some CDs she had in a box, and threw them across the room in a graceful arc, before they fractured on the tile floor. The CDs were fine, I guess, but the sounds the cases made as they shattered made me feel much better. Causalties of war, I remember thinking. I went up again, and she still wanted me to “cool down” or whatever. I’d reached my shit limit. I went insane, screaming LET ME THE FUCK IN!!!!!!! Let me reiterate, I will not let people try to control me. She ran over and opened it, since obviously grandma and grandpa had heard and were going to come over and see what was going on if she didn’t. I grabbed everything in the room that was mine, including my phone that we’d been using out of my generosity. I went around the house and collected everything that was mine, I put my DVD player back in it’s box, I brought armload after armload of stuff up. It ws then that I deceded I am going to leave two weeks before school starts, not this one day before bullshit. All my stuff is now in my room, completely unprotected because I have no lock on my door or any way to stop them from doing anything. I haven’t talked to my grandparents or my mom much at all since the episode. I’d bet millions that my mom made up some shit story making me the villain so they would pity her. Well I pity her, and it’s simply because of her stupidity and insanity. I can’t wait until that bitch dies.
