(no subject)
my parents would like me to come home. they think that my choices are dwindling. my resources are waning. my health is failing. my options are just not what they used to be. and that motivation isn't doing what it needs to.
its like the scientific theory fell in love with pragmatism and gave birth to fatalism.
well I'm not going to go home. my home is a closet under the stairs now.
my long term goals are iffy and the short term ones are well I don't have any.
my body refuses to die so I've got to make the best of things.
I don't know what makes me happy
I like swingsets and frozen grapes
my soul is only half cooked
this has been very emotional
and now this: http://www.livejournal.com/userinfo.bml?user=theghastlyfop