A Cry For Change

So I've decided to live life like I want to live it, but this is easier said than done. I want to wear my old man woolly jumpers, I want to have an accordion to stare at when I have a mental block, I want to party and stay over peoples' houses just for the sake of being out. In an ideal world,I'm sat in a park wearing my old man woolly jumper, with my oversized (fake) leather bag and huge Morrissey glasses. I have bright red hair, cheek piercings, amazing Jeffree Star make-up and I have a best-selling novel under my belt and a sketch book full of studies on many quirky pieces in many different mediums - there's a delicate study of a harmonica done in watercolours, there's a Vincent Van Gogh inspired study in done in oil paints, a ridiculously detailed study of an accordion done in pencil... But in reality, I'm just sat on the couch blogging, wearing a charity shop shirt. I have practically black hair with no fringe, no piercings and only mascara on. I can't find the time to write a book and I can't keep my mind on one story line. My sketch book has two crap pictures in that I want to burn because not only do I have no inspiration, but I have no skills either.You may be wondering what's brought this up now, hasn't it always been like this? Well the answer is yes it has been like this, but I'm sixteen and still go around places with my parents. I've been invited to a house party by someone I use to hang around with, then briefly lost touch with. The important detail here is that we never fell out. Mother said that she's tried to keep me from the Ammanford people, but the truth is that she's tried to keep me from the Carmarthen people, Brynaman people and Drama people. Well, I was stopped from going to Drama in its entirety because it was 'turning me into an asshole' but the way I see it, I was making me happy - me being an asshole is obviously me being happy. I want to go to this party badly. I want to hang out with these people, I want to share these people's experiences, I want to be able to be part of the stories that people remember.Mother says she's concerned because I'm never at the parties that people post pictures on on facebook, but when I off-handedly mentioned this party, she responded with "You know I don't like you hanging around with those people..." I believe the term used here would be double standards. I mean, I thought you were meant to grow apart from your parents, you're life shouldn't be constantly entwined with your parents. I'm pretty sure that that was in the Bible somewhere. Apparently, I was wrong. I have my mother as a friend on facebook, she reads this blog (which makes it harder to write) and she talks to Ashley a lot. Tess says that she and others think that it's not long until I rebel, and to be honest I do sometimes feel like freaking out and leaving, but that wouldn't achieve anything. I have to go to school, and they give me money to do so, and as my last post indicates, I'm seriously not independent. My parents and even my grandpa are involved in practically every element of my life - where I go, what I do, who I talk to, etc - and I can't change that or they would hit the roof. I remember the days of hope when I'd stare at sixth formers or the elders in Carmarthen and think, "When I'm sixteen..." I don't want to sound ungrateful, but it's felt like the equivalent to thinking "When tomorrow comes..." and tomorrow just turns out to be the same as today. There was no point in me turning sixteen. Hell, there'll probably be no point in me turning eighteen or fifty-nine, but I seriously wish there was. I've turned into Rob Fleming (from High Fidelity) already. I'm bitter, I'm resentful, I'm jaded, and more importantly, I'm too young to be any of these things. The quote "If you really wanted to screw me up, you should've gotten to me earlier" seems to apply for almost everything and everyone I meet now. It's not right. I'm not right. Nothing is right. It would be such a breakthrough in my life if I could go to this party. My parents keep on saying "You're turning into Tess... don't make us throw you out!" I'm sorry, but Tess was expelled from school, smokes and takes drugs, had the reputation of a whore, had sex with someone when she was allowed to go to a party at the age of fourteen, continued to have under-age sex and then boasted about it to me, has multiple naked photos going around the whole of Carmarthenshire, got kicked out of the college that is renowned for being full of drop-outs, is a lesbian, has no job or any intention of working and lives of her girlfriend. Yeah, I see what you mean, I am totally turning in to Tess because I happen to have a bad attitude. I so deserve to be kicked out the house with my bad attitude that absolutely every single teenager has. That's fair. That's completely fair. I suppose if I was kicked out of the house, I could write another rant to the newspaper... I seriously want to be like all the other sixteen year olds, I guess why I feel it so important to start now, a mere eight months after my sixteenth birthday. It's not much to ask. This holiday, I want to do at least two things a week. I want to have life experience, stories to tell, a chance to mature on my own, without any help or prompting. So far all I have planned is meeting up with Tess and shopping with Abi.