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I CAN'T LIVE HERE ANY LONGER.

I never feel more depressed than I do when I'm at home. (On reflection, that definitely goes up there in the Top 10 Saddest Sentences I've Ever Written). Now let me first say that I love my family more than anything or anyone in the entire world and I'm so thankful to have grown up with them in my life. But that's not to say that we're each emotionally mature enough to get along. My brother's lack of respect, and sometimes hurtful words, often bring me to the brink of tears (tears of frustration, that is). Also frustrating, is my sister's negative attitude and general hostility toward me, as well as the fact that she refuses to eat healthy.. almost as if to spite me. And my Mom and I.. the only time we've ever gotten along is when I lived 3000 miles away. Now put all of us together and what do you get? CHAOS.

If it weren't for my Dad and the two family pups, Bellah and Max, I would very much be living in what is a loose representation of 'hell' (Tad bit overdramatic, I know). I feel like I can't talk to anyone in this house--with the exception of Dad--without leaving the conversation feeling more upset and defeated than I felt upon entering it. So naturally, I retreat to my room to spend my time reading. But one can only read so much before needing real-life, stimulating interpersonal communication. So I give it another try. I descend the stairs to meet my ever-so-pleasant family in the living room. I am greeted with a flippant one-liner from my 17-year-old little brother. It is at this point that things head downhill... fast.

And so it is.. a seemingly never-ending cycle that continues to draw every last drop of energy from my body. I can no longer muster up the patience needed in order to 'act like an adult' in these situations.. so each attempt ends in failure faster than the previous one. Pretty soon, I won't even be able to make it down the stairs without turning around and heading back into my room.


Conclusion: I think it's time I got a job and moved on out, because I can tell my family members are sick of me.. and I would hate to see myself turn into a resentful monster in return.

PS. If your observation skills are as sharp as I assume they are, you may have noticed my overly frequent use of parentheses. Yes, this is likely to continue, as 'habits die hard'. Other grammatical tendencies of mine include quotation marks, dots, and commas.

Why I Won't Be Watching Shark Week

"Each year, sharks attack 70 to 100 people, with 5 to 15 of those being fatal. Each year, people attack up to 100 million sharks, and it's deadly every single time." Source

I admit that I used to be a huge fan of Shark Week. However, I won't be tuning in this year.. for a number of reasons. First, I'm obviously not into TV. I think it's a (very efficient) tool to distract us from actually living; to distract us from reaching our fullest potential as human beings. Because if we were to stop being automatons for even a second, we might just realize how inhuman we are and fight back. I'll leave that topic for another post though. Second, I honestly don't find it the least bit interesting. I mean, how many years of shark attacks will it take for people to realize this. I'd imagine that the "Human enters water. Shark attacks Human." story would get old after the first 23 years.. but to my surprise, people can't get enough. Third, as the article above explains, I don't agree with the way shark attacks are being sensationalized. For goodness sake, take a look at that statistic! Who are the real "victims"? Most certainly not humans. My fourth reason for boycotting Shark Week is that I find it sad that we have looked to TV to satisfy our inner craving for some kind of relationship with nature.. instead of spending time actually interacting with life: animals, plants, etc. Of course, I'm not one to talk: I've been spending WAY too much time indoors lately.. reading and blogging and learning. Perhaps I could use a little fresh air myself.

So there you have it.. My rant on Shark Week.