On Whatever.

I came home from an amazing day.

It's 2 AM.

My mom's being pissy and cussing in the other room, but whatever.

I see my photo album on the computer desk, and remember the stolen pictures I've hid inside of them. Someone, please, tell me why we have pictures of dead fetuses? My mother was pregnant with two twin boys before I was born. Their umbilical cord broke, and the suffocated in the womb. They were still born, meaning my mom birthed them but they were already dead. They had a funeral for them. I have three pictures. Two are of the twins, and they're incredibly morbid. The fetuses are small, shriveled, black (due to lack of oxygen I assume), and almost unhuman looking. The third picture is of my mom, dad, and sisters in front of a tiny coffin in a cemetary. Why do we have these? It's so terribly morbid. When I look at them, my stomach sours. I can't help but wonder if my mom's hobbies had something to do with their deaths...

I don't know why I'm writing about this; I guess it's just on my mind. It's not something I bring up often. I don't understand why I stole the pictures, I don't understand why the pictures were taken in the first place. But when I look at them, I'm completely absorbed, and completely disgusted. When I think about my past, and my family's past, I feel completely disgusted. I keep using the same words over and over, but I don't know. I'm not really in a great state of mind right now.

Meanwhile, my mom just got up and puked. She's been sick. I hope she's okay. I guess. It's weird, and it doesn't make sense, but I'm just annoyed with her. I only hope she's okay because I don't want to have to deal with her. Seeing her bent over in pain just makes me feel like she's pathetic. Why am I so heartless?

Well, I don't think it's anything serious. And if there is something wrong with her, well, I'm sure there's a reason she could have helped that got her sick. But still, I'm heartless. I feel terrible.

But at the same time I just don't give a fuck. I can't. I'm so past the point of caring about her. I know she can't help throwing up right now but I'm annoyed with her for doing so. I am probably not a good person.

I just can't even bring myself to care. Why? Should I care? I don't know.