Smile

I find it awfully funny how I have to live by this every single day of my life, but whenever I think of it, all my smiles are simply instinctual. I simply smile because my body tells me to. They are really not real, and I feel horrible for not being to show anyone how I really feel.
Smile, the musical, a piece of shit. But I crave the feeling of commitment. I long for the feeling of stage fright. I love the rush I know I'll feel when I look down into the audience. But it really hurts to know that my own mother won't be able to make it because of a business trip.
I've heard of cases where a child grows up distant to it's parents because it's parents are always at work and they feel neglected, but I've never had to experience it before. I mean, I totally understand if my dad doesn't show, because I grew up being used to it. But my mom, the first person I see in the morning usually, the woman who has only missed one choir performance in my entire life because she wasn't feeling well. The woman who drove to my school in the middle of the day just to watch me sing for choir. The woman who encouraged me to buy class clothing so that I would always be reminded of what had taken place that year. She would miss not one, not two, but six of my shows.
Even though I would be doing the same thing all six days, it hurts to know that she wouldn't be able to make it. It hurts to know that she would be on the other side of the world while I'm flaunting around pretending to be a contestant of a Young Miss Beauty Pageant.
I grew up to be a person completely different than what anyone imagined. No one thought that I would grow to love dancing. No one thought that I'd be able to act. No one thought that I would be able to design. No one ever imagined that I'd be the person I was today. All those dreams were meant for my sister. She was the daughter that my parents wanted to send to Europe to study Performing Arts. She's the daughter that doesn't get yelled at when her graders come home and a D or a C shows up, because my parents want her to get into acting or singing or some sort of art anyways.
To my parents, I'm just okay at anything I do. I'm okay at dancing. I'm barely okay at singing. I'm okay at acting. I'm okay at everything I do, my dad didn't even turn to look at me when I was so excited about the fact that I had made callbacks. My mom just started to tell me what she thinks I'd do wrong and told me to avoid it.
One of the few times it seemed like they care was actually last night, when I was helping Martin look for a lost screw to his guitar and I picked something up while the light was dim. The object was small and contained ridges but when Martin finally got a chance to look at it, I was already turning it and I swear I saw some sort of eye like things on the dead form. I screamed and dropped it. I felt horrified. I got yelled at. My parents told me I overreacted. They didn't even seem to notice that I was scared out of my mind. They just thought that I was in real trouble. Even when I think of it, I get the shivers.
My parents always ask me why I always want to be with my friends. Maybe it's because I feel home when I'm around them. Home is when you are surrounded by those you love most, and when they love you in return. I hardly feel that at my house anymore. That's really all it is now. A house, and empty shell of what used to be a beautiful structure filled with life and music and love. Now it's just people who barely talk to each other.
The eldest daughter just sits up in her room painting or writing. The only son sits on his computer playing games while talking to his girlfriend. The youngest daughter sits in her parent's room watching T.V. The mother is always in the kitchen cooking or by the piano writing music. The father is simply just not home from 6-8:30.
I sometimes say I want to live with my friends, not because I think I'm too good for my family and I can take care of myself completely at age fifteen, but because I think I'd feel happier if I did. I hate not being able to see my best guy friend any day but Saturday, and even those days are limited. My best girl friend is always with some other people. It's like I don't belong anywhere at school. I'm really getting used to simply being on my own. I don't care if I look like a loner, peace is all need. It's too loud around people, I need a sanctuary. I need a place to hideaway. The perfect place for me is inside me. I feel like withdrawing myself from the world once again.
I'm not pretty, I'm not smart, I'm not athletic, there isn't much that I'm good at. But I try so hard even though it might not seem like it. I want to improve myself. I want to be a better person. I'm tired of putting myself down, but I've already dug myself a hole so deep, that to stand at the top would only frighten me and cause me to fall back down. Yes it's really silly, I know, but it's how I feel. And even though I would never be able to tell anyone this with my own voice, I believe that writing is extremely powerful, and that I just portrayed myself here.