Strike three on Reed street?
I want to throw out so many of my things and start over with the clothes on my back, but there's so much of which I can't let go. I feel so restless. I can't stay here, but I don't have anywhere to go, yet. I want to pack up my shit and split. I need to blow this popsicle stand. I'm stuck here but I'm still completely dislocated from my residence. Alienated even. I don't think people realize what disengagement means. "We haven't seen you in so long..." I LIVE RIGHT FUCKING HERE!!! I've been here all along. No one would even notice if I were dead and rotting in here. "Where's Mara been?" I'M AROUND THE GOD DAMNED CORNER! I've been here since AUGUST! Is it so hard to walk through the courtyard? Is it so hard to dial a number? "You have to come to us." You know what that says to me? It tells me that no one cares enough about friendship to exert any kind of effort to keep it alive. I walk up there, I walk over there to you everytime. No one ever comes to get me. You can't even meet me half way. You just don't care if I'm there or not. I have other places to go.