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Well, right now my traces of insanity and my aspiring authors's heart are in chaos. I hate ranting the world and I hate ranting people, but I'm sick and tired of being ranted every single day, not by teachers (who love me), not by friends (who admire me) or even by my dear little brothers (whose mission is like is to annoy the heck out of me). No, none of those people bother me at all, my only problem besides the usual stress from school is my mom.
I love my mom, a lot, but she's the sort of person I'll never be able to open my heart to. Its probably because when I was a little kid my mom was always sumerged in her studies at night, and the only other time she was home was in the morning, where she complained about my hair and tried to comb it. To this day not once has my mom not found a flaw in my hair style, which is probaly the cause of my trauma about my hair. She never talked to me, she never played with me, even if I, with my childish heart, asked her many times to play Barbies with me. Yeah, to be young and foolish... But she never did... And when she did try to talk to me... I was in 7th grade, and it was only because she divorced my dad... and she forced me to switch schools which brought me many a tear.
Im going to stop writing right now, because I hate ranting, letting others into my worries, although I do complain quite a bit about other stuff and sometimes make rather harsh jokes, I hate to rant. So I'll leave, trying to hold back these tears which begin to flood in my heart.