(no subject)
I realised last night that I have spent literally less than one-fourth (about one year) of my life post-Gross Street actually properly, legally living somewhere. The over three-fourths remaining (a little more than three years) have been spent either couch surfing, indefinitely crashing, and/or being a giant parasite that leeches off of others' kindness. And I hate even more that I am currently in the latter stage and I just can't seem to fucking fix it no matter how hard I try.