bear with me just this first time

The hardest part about having a blog is not posting complaints all the time.
If only I had a cardboard box. A large, brown, sturdy cardboard box. Then I could crawl inside it and stay there and convince myself that I could hide from my troubles.
Aren't I childish.
Instead of turning around and facing my problems like a (wo)man, all I want is to hide from them. I still believe that if I can't see them, they can't see me, and maybe they'll pass right on by.

Unfortunately, I don't have a cardboard box. Or a large box of any kind.
I guess I feel bad that everyone around me is working so hard, when I'm... not. They're all so motivated and stuff and even if they're not really 'trying', they still (effortlessly, it seems) get good grades. While I've tried to study, and tried to work hard, and tried to keep up with everyone else.
Am I just not motivated enough?

My parents keep telling me about people who are so much better than me. "So-and-so's son got an A in this class! He told his mom it was easy! Why can't you do that?" "Look, on the news. This girl moved from China and became the class representative in her school! She went to the White House! You should be like her."

When I'm on the computer, actually doing legit stuff like typing up my essay: "Get off the computer! Why you always on Facebook? See, this is why you're useless. Never amount to anything!"

And then you always ask me why I'm never motivated.
Well.
If everything you've been telling me 24/7 is your definition of 'motivation', how can anyone be 'motivated'?

Everyone's so touchy and sensitive these days.
We're falling apart as a 'family'. We start yelling at each other, across the room, up and down stairs, over the price of poster paper.
I almost wish the world would end this year. It would make everything a lot simpler.