Aw, hell diddly-ding-dong-crap!

I'm in yet another "thinking about my issues" mood.
See, it all began perhaps an hour ago or so, and see, I was emptying the dishwasher and whatnot and thinking about all this stuff in elaborate terms, when yet again it has come to the point where I don't have to talk about it on this blog as it has all been cleared up in my head. Hoorah. (As the point of thinking about all those things was to talk about them in the blog, but then I think about it enough in my head that I no longer have to discuss it. I'm going to discuss it anyway, as articulately as I can. Damn, I didn't think "articulately" would be an actual word. Anyway.)
Mmm, Whittaker's is deliciously good chocolate. Take that, Cadbury!
Here's something. I never ever ever talk about piano. Ever.
So today as I was sitting on the couch, whoop-dee-do, my brother is saying something to my ma. I didn't notice what, but my ma responds with "that's because you're a good piano player and she's a crap one." I waited a few seconds before saying, "what did you say mother? What did you say? What did you just say, mother?" She didn't know what I was talking about and I wasn't about to press matters.
See I've been playing piano for nine years, my brother is four years younger than me and at the same level, just a tad further. He has a different piano teacher to me; one who progresses a lot faster.
I've been playing piano for nine years, and never once have I received a shred of encouragement, not a dot of motivation. Just told, hey there play piano- quit bashing the keys! UR DOIN IT RONG.
So I wanted to quit so much, so so so much and yet I couldn't. I could not ever ever quit, there was no way. I couldn't. And I still can't and I don't want to.
Also, I've never had motivation to play till now; which is why I find it so difficult to be motivated anyway. I'll go, "ALRIGHT. I HAVE A GOAL. LET'S DO THIS...aww, jeez, I can't be freakin' bothered. I'll do it tomorrow."
I'm that way with everything, actually, but that's irrelevant.
Sooooo, I guess you could say that motivation is Matt Bellamy? Okay, okay, yeah the dude from Muse and everyone is sick of hearing me talk about Muse- but if someone I knew liked Muse as much as I do and talked about them with me, maybe I wouldn't go on about them all the time to everyone else as much. Srsly though, the only songs my friends know by them are Starlight and Supermassive Black Hole. Before I perused the internet to find out about Muse, I thought Starlight was a gorgeous song! That piano, guys. Great! But turns out it's kind of hated for being a single, and being more simplistic, generally considered pretty sucky to the max. Well daaaaaamn. Anywho, I facepalmed nontheless when the only songs my friends knew were Starlight and SMBH. (Excluding Alice- I know you know more songs XD)
So yeah, Matt- he's a mad lunatic genius and sometimes I worry about him- he seems deadly serious about some of his conspiracy theories, but that's okay. XD
But yeah, he's a ridiculously good pianist and okay, I feel like I'm too old to become a good pianist anymore, because I'm 15 and that's always too late to become an amazing talent, you have to be four years old and playing FANTASIE IMPROMPTU, or, 15 and playing FANTASIE IMPROMPTU. (Uh yeah there's a girl in my year who can play that. Hmph.)
And, so far, he's the only inspiration I've ever had to keep playing the piano. And, okay, I do suck at the piano- all my friends will go "NO YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE AMAZING!" but that's only because they don't play piano and they're my friends. So yes. I do suck. But for my mother to say that in front of my face while not actually talking to me is kind of the worst thing for anyone to hear. Maybe I do suck, but it would be nice to hear some encouragement once in a while! Some sign that you want me to continue playing!
So sometimes when I get most inspired to do stuff, to BE THE BEST EVER AT EVERYTHING I DO, I'm fueled by anger and spite. Which is probably not good but, thing is, it always fades and I lose the moment, the moment of I'M GOING TO SHOW EVERYONE, THE BASTARDS.
Because I do that a lot, and I always don't do it. But now I feel that I have to do something, I've already lost the will to try hard but I can't. I have to be better so that one day, I can go: "I'd like to say thank you, to my friends, for being awesome most of the time, thanks to my father, my brother, you people are alright. Thank you for choosing me to have this, uh "good at the piano" award. Cheers."
And for my mother to go- hang on. Where's my thanks? And to confront me later.
"Oh, your thanks? Yeah. Thanks, ma, for never believing in me. Thanks for never helping me. Thanks for making me do my best with no help whatsoever. I had to drag myself up from the pit of sucky all by myself with no encouragement, no words, no help. Thanks."
Thanks a lot.
That's not sincere, by the way. In case you hadn't noticed, I was being somewhat sarcastic.
I could go on, talk about other things, about how sometimes I am deeply angered by stuff, but I tend to do that a lot, and you know, start delving in to all my ISSUES AS A PERSON and why I hate it whenever anyone does anything. But I won't.
I think I'll just leave it at that, whoop-dee-freakin'-do.