The Turner Girls: proper noun.

There are five. All girls. But you already knew that, right? Everyone knows that. And, apparently, we all look “exactly alike.” So much, in fact, that now it doesn’t surprise me when a stranger on the street recognizes me as such. As a “Turner Girl.” I guess if you know one, you know them all. Ah, but therein lies the question. Do you know one? Do you know them all? I doubt it. Very few have seen the gears, levers, and screws that are The Turner Family.
There’s the screaming for one. Always Screaming. Screaming with anger, screaming with laughter, screaming just to hear your voice echo down the hallway. But screaming, is the common (and preferred) form of communication.
“It’s time for dinner!”
“You’re wearing my shirt!”
“Rebecca did it!”
“Madelyn used it last!”
In a house of seven, screaming is the only way your voice is going to get heard. And how appropriately absurd that this form of communication, so typically geared toward anger, should be our everyday form of interaction. Because damn-do we get angry. I’ve never had more horrible and terrible things said to me than at home. But there it is, I called it home.
The bond between sisters is internal and eternal. It is imperishable and it is binding. And all the mean things that have been said to me, all the pinches and scratches, have all been trumped by the humor, loyalty, and love that I find refuge in these four girls. I know each one. I know them all.

what i say about what's been done.

after all the discussions we've had about fate and freewill, i have to say, i feel quite unfulfilled. We've all questioned this and theorized that, but what do we know? but, then again, that's not really the point, is it? the knowing is not what matters. the point, im sure, is to wonder. wonder "what if," wonder "how come?" But i really can't help but be quite perturbed with the lack of answers for so many important and influential questions. Actually, just talking about it now is making me frustrated...and maybe even a little pissed. i know it's stupid for me to crave answers to questions that i know have none, but i cant really help it. i want one. But again, i do realize that it doesnt really matter either way. if im just living my life by the moment, and none of it really has any importance, than so be it. But if my fate is to do something great or something awful, then its going to happen whether i believe in it or not. i hope there's more of a point to my life than eating, shitting, and sleeping. And, if nothing else, i have realized from all our discussions, that fate would be okay by me.

fate shmate

Oh god, i hope not. I hope my whole life isn't already planned out. That would really be a waste of time. Life would be nothing more than the time it takes you to get to the end. An end you cannot prevent...or change...or have any say in whatsoever. It kind of makes me wonder 'whats the point?' What would be the point in having your life predestined? Is it for god (or any other gods for that matter)? What would any god achieve from planning the lives of mortals? A relief from the usual boredoms of natural disaters? I like to think that the choices im making in life, I'M actually making for a reason. I think i should be the one who desides what becomes of me. MY actions, MY mistakes, MY goals. i hope no god thinks any man or woman deserves to live a life of starvation, trial, loss...hurt. we, as men and women of free will, choose.