Everything downhill

hiiii. i guess i'll start off with the good news... I'M GOING TO A BLADEE CONCERT! if you don't know who bladee is, just think of him as like a soundcloud vaporwave rapper that peaked in 2013 but if the entire fanbase was borderline emo pretentious 17 year olds. i was going to go to the washington DC concert but they sold out in minutes. so now im driving 7 hours to atlanta on a school night to go to this underground small concert venue. the concert is on march 22nd :D also don't judge me for liking his music okay...oh and the fans are definitely either outside the entire day at the skatepark practicing the same one trick they know how to do, or are on their 2000 dollar pc on reddit complaining abut the "posers" who listen to bladee. no inbetween. i'm definitely the type to practice one trick over and over and hang out with friends all day. at least i was that way before i was grounded for 6 months... i never liked being at home so going out with friends and just hanging out right after school was the usual. now the "usual" is go to school, walk straight to work from school (like 2 miles) and then go home watch my screaming little siblings and pass out on my bed exhausted. on the weekends i work work work and then sleep stuck in my room. anyone with at least 3 braincells could see that i'm falling apart. my room gets dirtier and dirtier everyday. how can my room become so dirty if i do nothing but lay in bed all day pitying myself? "awww my life sucks aww poor me" why am i painting myself as the victim? all i could do is get up and clean my room. get up and do that homework. get up and do SOMETHING. but instead i feel bad abt myself and lay in my bed everyday all day. my room looks like one of those storage units that people fill their stuff with. theres just enough of a path through the garbage to get to my bed. i used to love painting flowers, trees, animals, people, really anything. but as soon as i am stuck in my room it feels like all of the activies i could be doing in my room are closed off. my desk has a thin layer of dust covering it. "I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked. One fig was a husband and a happy home and children, and another fig was a famous poet and another fig was a brilliant professor, and another fig was Ee Gee, the amazing editor, and another fig was Europe and Africa and South America, and another fig was Constantin and Socrates and Attila and a pack of other lovers with queer names and offbeat professions, and another fig was an Olympic lady crew champion, and beyond and above these figs were many more figs I couldn't quite make out. I saw myself sitting in the crotch of this fig tree, starving to death, just because I couldn't make up my mind which of the figs I would choose. I wanted each and every one of them, but choosing one meant losing all the rest, and, as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet."-the bell jar