Every cigarette, is doing you damage.

I see all this potential, and I see it squandered. Goddammit, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables, slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man; no purpose or place. We have no Great War, no Great Depression. Our Great War is a spiritual war. Our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised by television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires and movie gods and rock stars. But we won't; and we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off. - Tyler Durden.

I love that.

Its’ been a while since I’ve last blogged. My apologies to the few people who follow this blog for whatever reasons…if you do follow it, I’d like to know why the fuck you would waste your time reading pointless thoughts and opinions being expressed by a most probably fucked up individual who has nothing better to offer the world, but her procrastination skills.

So, what’s doing?

Lately? Not much really. A lot of reflecting, questioning, confusing myself…Procrastination, in other words. I am the queen of procrastination, according to Dadic.

I’ve been getting up to some mischief, and it’s done nothing for me, but put me in a bad mood, prohibited me from going out, and resulted in my mother losing all trust in me. (what was left of it anyway).

So I do teenage things, we all do. It’s the borderline between doing them, not getting caught and getting away with them, and doing them, getting busted and facing self damnation. No idea what I’m going on about? Yeah, me neither.

So here’s where my state of mind was at on Thursday night, I’d meant to blog on Thursday, to release this, but I ended up just saving it and going to sleep. At 9pm. Sleep resolves all, or so it seems.

Thursday, April 22^nd.

I’m so ashamed of myself, so embarrassed, humiliated. I feel like I’ve failed the ones I love, in order to satisfy my curiosity. I’ve lost my mother’s trust. ‘I don’t care about what others think, this is my life, I live it for me, not for anyone else.’ My theory is crushed. Tonight I realised that I give a shit about what my mom thinks.

I did what I did, to satisfy this unjustifiable curiosity. One that makes no sense, but made itself present at that moment. Its not like I didn’t know what it was like, I’d done it before. Why would this time be different?

So there I was, proving my point, going against the promises I’d made to myself, to others. Fail.

I’d given in to it, and as I did, weakness, vulnerability and anger flooded me. Why the fuck did I do it? Was that really necessary Marija? Who fucking knows. I do know though, that It wasn’t temptation, it didn’t appeal to me, it was ciuriosity.

Curiosity killed the cat.

I can only begin to imagine what’s going through my mom’s mind. Fuck, I don’t want to. I know it’ll only make me feel worse, and do nothing in aiding the situation. Hearing her cry is enough for me.

So now, I’m a smoking, Alcoholic, junkie who is the sheep of society and follows the lead of some incompetent asshole.

So all this thought about being a total failure in making my parents proud has led to some interesting thoughts about Birth, death, and the bits in between.

The bits in between, aka, Life are like…this huge decision making process. Everything you do, every thought you think, and every action you make, is ultimately a result of a decision you’ve made.

Think about it.

Oh the irony in it. You’re induction into this world, was a choice itself. But not one you made, one that was made for you. ‘Take responsibility for your actions’

Actions = result of YOUR choices= YOUR responsibility

Marija’s conception = PARENTS choices = PARENTS responsibility?

Is it right to state then, that ‘life’ is infact being ‘lived’ by you, for somebody else ? Your parents.

I feel that all the choices I’m meant to make, are being made for me. That this life isn’t being lived by me, or for me. But that my parent are doing it all for me, and making the choices they wish THEY had made. THEY want to feel the sense of accomplishment, when I’ve done everything they want me to do. THEY want something to be proud of, something to have as a token of them ‘living’ something to leave behind.

Parents make their children do what they want them to do, push them into things they don’t like doing, so that they have something to show at the family reunion. Kinda like, ‘HEY I fucked up high school, but I pushed my kid, black mailed them and made them so afraid of me that in the end, they ended up at the top of the class! I’m such a proud parent”

Fuck it.

Apologies on the stupid rant. No idea what the point of this was...probably needed to procrastinate from doing school work.