(no subject)
Coming home feels like compromising my freedom.
It's sad... this used to be my home, and it still is... but... it's really nothing against my parents, because they don't force me to do anything anymore, but when I'm in this house... I don't know... it's like I'm wearing clothes that are too small... I've grown and it just feels odd. In a way I'm glad I feel this way, because I think it's natural and I definately will never be one of those kids in their mid to late twenties who still lives at home, but at the same time, when I'm here I feel trapped. Thank god I still have friends in the area or I'd go bat shit insane.
So I'm spending the night here in the house... it's boring... but I'm getting by.
It's sad... this used to be my home, and it still is... but... it's really nothing against my parents, because they don't force me to do anything anymore, but when I'm in this house... I don't know... it's like I'm wearing clothes that are too small... I've grown and it just feels odd. In a way I'm glad I feel this way, because I think it's natural and I definately will never be one of those kids in their mid to late twenties who still lives at home, but at the same time, when I'm here I feel trapped. Thank god I still have friends in the area or I'd go bat shit insane.
So I'm spending the night here in the house... it's boring... but I'm getting by.