Topic: Dear Diary (Read 424 times)
What does "Activity" mean?
I saw a previous thread in where you posted about your dead brother. Its also strange that you have a outragously high amount of posts and only 70 activity, indicative of hardly any time spent and very quick posting.
If you are being truthful, I have nothing but sympathy for you and your family. Truly a tragedy.
If you are being truthful, I have nothing but sympathy for you and your family. Truly a tragedy.
My job is making YouTube videos and posting on forums (not spam, just for fun). So I don't have much else to do but get my post ount up (not on purpose, I just mean I write a lot).
Ans this is 100% true, I wouldn't lie about something like this. The only time I EVER EVER lie is like "Did you drink this orange juice and leave the empty bottle?"... "No"...
I would never lie about something like this.
I saw a previous thread in where you posted about your dead brother. Its also strange that you have a outragously high amount of posts and only 70 activity, indicative of hardly any time spent and very quick posting.
If you are being truthful, I have nothing but sympathy for you and your family. Truly a tragedy.
If you are being truthful, I have nothing but sympathy for you and your family. Truly a tragedy.
I hated using "Dear Diary" as a name because this isn't an announcement to the world, this isn't a declaration of hatred towards these people, this is not even my wishing ill luck on anyone.
This is simply stating the recent events in my life, because I need to. I am not lashing out at anyone, I am getting words out that would otherwise drive me to violence or resentment of my own family.
My little brother died about two weeks ago. I should have been there to protect him from my stepdad, I've had to do that very thing before (except this time he poisoned my brother with peanuts instead of grabbing his arm to leave in anger). It was a peanut related allergy, and my step dad brought home peanut butter stuffed M&Ms. I'm about to cry as I write these next few sentences. My step dad brought them home, and without putting on his glasses, took the M&Ms out of the larger bag (PAUSE\I don't give a fuck WHO thinks otherwise, but Mars and all other peanut distributors need a big red P or a big yellow peanut man on each and every peanut product/CONTINUE) and into cups for each of my little brothers. My little brother had always asked me "Is peanut butter really so good you can just eat it out of the jar?" and I would always tell him "Yeah, it's awesome". But I had always thought that one day he would be able to eat peanut butter, I had no idea this was such a serious thing.
But he was given a cup of peanuts, and I cry every time I have this thought. He probably thought they were double stuffed M&Ms, he probably thought it was so cool. And he had only tried peanut butter once, but only for a moment. So he didn't know the flavor. He probably just thought it was delicious chocolate, he probably thought it was an awesome double stuffed M&M with chocolate he had never tasted before, but it was probably so delicious for him. He always wanted to try peanut butter
So I feel like my stepdad killed my brother. On accident yes, but with a dirty trick. And only because he wasn't wearing his glasses, and there is no label that can be easily recognized by children and the elderly. I wish I could start a law suit, or kill someone. But it would never bring my brother back. So I wait to be with him.
And now that my brother is dead my family takes it out on me. I usually don't live at home, but I have been here since my brother was in the hospital and saw his death. My step dad gives me dirty looks and even though he asked me to start a charity organization, he won't even acknowledge me when I notify him of progress. And any time I ask for any human courtesy from my mother (like treating me sad when I'm sad instead of yelling at me, or listening when I am replying to something she said, or accepting that other people are treating me like ass holes in the family instead of blowing it off when I mention it).
And the worst part of it all, it I feel like no one else is doing anything to memorialize my brother. I used hedge clippers to chop a trail to a pine tree (and I plan on creating a sanctuary around the place that there is no growth in the pine shade), I've thrown baseballs (my dead brothers favorite sport) into the field behind the house, and I a founding a town in his honor (see "Mason Town").
I don't care if anyone reads this, writing it made me feel a lot better.
This is simply stating the recent events in my life, because I need to. I am not lashing out at anyone, I am getting words out that would otherwise drive me to violence or resentment of my own family.
My little brother died about two weeks ago. I should have been there to protect him from my stepdad, I've had to do that very thing before (except this time he poisoned my brother with peanuts instead of grabbing his arm to leave in anger). It was a peanut related allergy, and my step dad brought home peanut butter stuffed M&Ms. I'm about to cry as I write these next few sentences. My step dad brought them home, and without putting on his glasses, took the M&Ms out of the larger bag (PAUSE\I don't give a fuck WHO thinks otherwise, but Mars and all other peanut distributors need a big red P or a big yellow peanut man on each and every peanut product/CONTINUE) and into cups for each of my little brothers. My little brother had always asked me "Is peanut butter really so good you can just eat it out of the jar?" and I would always tell him "Yeah, it's awesome". But I had always thought that one day he would be able to eat peanut butter, I had no idea this was such a serious thing.
But he was given a cup of peanuts, and I cry every time I have this thought. He probably thought they were double stuffed M&Ms, he probably thought it was so cool. And he had only tried peanut butter once, but only for a moment. So he didn't know the flavor. He probably just thought it was delicious chocolate, he probably thought it was an awesome double stuffed M&M with chocolate he had never tasted before, but it was probably so delicious for him. He always wanted to try peanut butter
So I feel like my stepdad killed my brother. On accident yes, but with a dirty trick. And only because he wasn't wearing his glasses, and there is no label that can be easily recognized by children and the elderly. I wish I could start a law suit, or kill someone. But it would never bring my brother back. So I wait to be with him.
And now that my brother is dead my family takes it out on me. I usually don't live at home, but I have been here since my brother was in the hospital and saw his death. My step dad gives me dirty looks and even though he asked me to start a charity organization, he won't even acknowledge me when I notify him of progress. And any time I ask for any human courtesy from my mother (like treating me sad when I'm sad instead of yelling at me, or listening when I am replying to something she said, or accepting that other people are treating me like ass holes in the family instead of blowing it off when I mention it).
And the worst part of it all, it I feel like no one else is doing anything to memorialize my brother. I used hedge clippers to chop a trail to a pine tree (and I plan on creating a sanctuary around the place that there is no growth in the pine shade), I've thrown baseballs (my dead brothers favorite sport) into the field behind the house, and I a founding a town in his honor (see "Mason Town").
I don't care if anyone reads this, writing it made me feel a lot better.
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