Noah is still sick. :-( He's not throwing up anymore, he just won't eat and he's very very pissy about everything. He's slept about half the day or more, which is good, I guess. At night, we went to get almost all of the rest of my dorm stuff. I went with Mom this time and luckily, she didn't have an episode of anger. I think she just did, according to Sam (something about me and mail). I love how she screams at me and about me when it comes to my "junk all over the place" when it includes about one piece on my chair and I just want to say "Look at the frickin' table, woman!" It's piled infinitely high with years of shit. But nooo, I'm the pig who leaves stuff around.
Right now I'm hanging out with Sam again. I've actually been hanging out with Sam all day and he's absolutely awesome. He's drawing the characters from the book he's writing. They all look really good. Noah is also writing a book. Yay! I'm an inspiration.
Anyway, Noah has gone absolutely mad. He's totally paranoid, making these weird scary faces at everyone, ignoring us or yelling at us or moaning at us to go away and all this weirdo breathing stuff. Personally, I think he's faking most of it. I know he doesn't feel good, but he's making us feed him like a baby. With a spoon. He has to wear a bib. We have to instruct him to chew. Then he gets mad at us for "telling [him] what to do". And he equates that with "YOU WANT ME TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!" Don't ask me what the hell that has to do with anything or how he gets it from "chew your food" and "drink the juice". What the fuck?
Sam just got back in here. He's clicking his loose tooth around. "Ow! It hurts when I smile!" he says. "So don't smile," I say. *Half-lid look in my direction* Haha. I just called Sam Noah. Oops. Anyway, he's just demonstrated how Mom said "Choo choo! Here comes the train!" while trying to force feed him some mushy throw-up looking junk. No wonder he's puking. Basically, Sam took my cell phone and said "Look, this is Noah's mouth." (The phone is wide open.) "Choo choo! Here comes the train!" Sam demonstrates this with a pencil. (The phone snaps shut and refuses to open.) The pencil jabs at the closed phone. HAHAHA.
Wow. Now Sam's going on really loudly about Mom. I said: "Stop speaking so loudly. Vent!" I point to the vent in my floor. Sound travels through it to the room directly underneath us where our parents are right now. "They can hear everything we're saying." "Oops." "Yeah." Then he says, "Maybe that's why I can hear them when I'm mad in my room...They're right beneath me in the other room." "Yeah, Sam." "Maybe that's why it smells so much in the walls....My farts travel through the vents!" "Yes, Sam." Exit Sam. Mom's screaming next door (their room) about whatever and something to do with changing Noah's thrown-up-on sheets. Lovely. Poor Sam. Why did he even bother leaving? (He's so nice. He wants to help.) I think I'll stay in my room.
Yeah...now Noah's saying that he can't "brush his teeth" because his "sheets are talking" to him. *Rolls eyes profusely* He is such a milker. Sam reported this to me just as he burst into my room two seconds ago. Now he's crying because he's so worried about Noah who wouldn't give one tear about Sam during his entire three weeks of blindness and other deathly illnesses. That's the one thing that really ticks me off about Noah. He's very cruel to Sam and doesn't care about anything, at least he acts like it. Sam is mean to him, but only brother quarreling stuff. He always tries to help and show everyone how much he cares.
Plus, Noah is completely faking now. Sam was staring into bright sunlight and his pupils were beyond dilated. You can't fake that. "Yeah. He's definitely stretching it out this time," says Sam. Well, duh. "You stretched the blindness at the end." "Ok. Yeah. But I didn't make you feed me. And I didn't moan." Very true. He continues drawing. Now, I must be going to get a little review of Sam's characters. More to come later.
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