i love the way his big double paws curl up in a little fist over his face when he sleeps.
...he is my best friend, baby kitty. yes he is.
two days till we're out of our house.
the most progressive thing i've done as far as packing my shit up has been taking all the pictures and things off of my walls. now they are bare and ugly and yellow.
my mom wants me to go see a therapist. she thinks i'm clinically depressed. and wants me put on medication.
i've been through this shit before. but now that i'm 20 and not 15 anymore, i can't be forced to take pills and see a psychiatrist once a week.
so, i don't think i'll be obliging her on this one. no thanks.
and tonight i decided for sure that i want to live in the middle of nowhere. in a house surrounded by stretches of uncut grass and warm sunshine. a front porch. a front screen door that squeaks when opened. a big tree to take naps under in the middle of the afternoon. a swing tied to one of the branches of that same tree. railroad tracks nearby. white paint peeling off the sides of the house. maybe a dog that'll run around outside with me. my old brown bike to ride through the rain on. a line for the laundry. a pond down the street/dirt road.
i'll be the new stranger in town. and i won't talk to anyone. i'll mail letters. and have no telephone.
that's it.
i can't wait to get out of here........
two days till we're out of our house.
the most progressive thing i've done as far as packing my shit up has been taking all the pictures and things off of my walls. now they are bare and ugly and yellow.
my mom wants me to go see a therapist. she thinks i'm clinically depressed. and wants me put on medication.
i've been through this shit before. but now that i'm 20 and not 15 anymore, i can't be forced to take pills and see a psychiatrist once a week.
so, i don't think i'll be obliging her on this one. no thanks.
and tonight i decided for sure that i want to live in the middle of nowhere. in a house surrounded by stretches of uncut grass and warm sunshine. a front porch. a front screen door that squeaks when opened. a big tree to take naps under in the middle of the afternoon. a swing tied to one of the branches of that same tree. railroad tracks nearby. white paint peeling off the sides of the house. maybe a dog that'll run around outside with me. my old brown bike to ride through the rain on. a line for the laundry. a pond down the street/dirt road.
i'll be the new stranger in town. and i won't talk to anyone. i'll mail letters. and have no telephone.
that's it.
i can't wait to get out of here........