Monday, April 19, 2010
this house is not a home
well. im home. i knew it was going to be tough living here, but i didnt realize how much this place just isnt my home anymore. i walk into my house from being picked up from the airport, and my kitchen is completely redone, the dog is like nine feet longer and has this attitude, i cant find any of the spoons or cups, the food is beyond organic, and my brother is almost my height. my mother continues to make rude comments on my wardrobe, and asks who i could possibly be texting at 1 am. i dont belong here anymore, clearly. i hate that i had to move back here. i hate this town, i hate this state. i hate that everything i do gets a comment, everything i wear gets a comment, by a family member, or an old highschool friend i see in town. i need to get out of this place. i feel like alice when she takes the "eat me" and grows a mile tall and cant fit inside the house. ive said before that coming home steals a part of your soul, well, i think it ate the entire thing.