I guess I'm a little bit depressed
I look at this painting I'm trying to finish, and I don't know how to finish it
Maybe its a metaphor or something
I don't want to be in this house anymore, I think that's part of it. I hate living here. I feel like my head could be chopped off any second. I almost wish she actually will kick me out sometimes. I'm jobless, I'll end up on the streets...but at least I'll be outside, at least my life would be an adventure.
I just really want to drive somewhere far away
and sleep in my car and get out and feel the harsh cold or heat...either one.
I feel like I'll just stay here, I'll remain stationary and never see anything else of this country I live in or the world I live in. I don't know what I want.
I want to find a goddamn job so I can get out of this fucking house.
I hate this fucking house.