Gah. I'm turning into a bitch. I wake up and I can't find it in me to be nice to anyone anymore, I just, lost my kindness. All those years of saying people had it worse than man. All that time I've spent trying to look forward and say that I'll be out of this mess that my parents make me live in, it's all useless now. I can't find it in me to stay here any longer, I don't talk to Jeff like I used to, I'm always feeling utterly alone now. . . . My dad's turned into a shell of a human being, only up to get food, go to work, come back, maybe clean a little bit ( Now that I've spent the past two weeks bitching at him about how lazy he was) and go back to bed. My poetry is at a stand still, my life is slowly sinking, and everything I've had to keep me in my dad's house, to keep me in Liberty, to keep me at RECHS . . . The luster and love for it all is fading out into a gray empty hollowness that's not enough to make me stay. Now, now that I finally feel that way I can't move back in with my Aunt. I want to go home so badly. I want to go back to her house, I want to spend my days doing house work and playing outside again. Her house, it was so much better for me. I wasn't ever depressed, I rarely felt pain of any form, I was kept safely. The people I loved were always around me. I was allowed to live and breath with out the constant worry that I was doing something wrong. I have acer's of land to explore and five large dogs to help me in the exploring. I had my own library. I may not have had my own room but sharing isn't so bad when it's with your Aunt's computer. I miss my library, it has a few books I actually finished writing, as well as thousands of poetry books I use to read, it held so many wonderful, old, large, beautifully bound books in it. There was a fire place for the winter with a painting of two horses running wild and free. One was black and my Aunt deemed it her's, mine was the white one. Right beside the fire place was a rock painted like a lady-bug and a mini-rocking chair for a small child. I used it when I was smaller. I had my own porch, or at least access to one that no one else used, it had a swing on it and a few ferns, the rose garden was planted in front of it. There was a lake to canoe on, and a river to swim in (as long as you watched out for turtles.) I would wake up every morning and come in the kitchen to find a cup of coffee waiting for me and a nice breakfast. Or, at times, I'd be the one to wake up and make breakfast for my Aunt and Uncle. . . . Gah, I miss my home there so much.
I'm also home sick for my house in Puerto Rico. Yeah, it wasn't as big or nearly as nice, I mean we took showers from a bucket with a ladle. But it was home for me. There was horses at the beach, and we'd walk down to the beach so often. The clearest waters I've ever seen in my life there, the sane was a mix of black and white at times or just black. Some spots were just white too. The Bioluminescent bay was so much fun, plus I had friend there too, thy lived down the street from me. It's where I got my first dog from, his name was Buddy. There was coconut trees in the yard that was more of a slope, actually

I could walk over the entire island alone with no worries cause it was safe. . . . I'm so home sick . . .
I'm also missing Jeffrey. I miss talking to him, holding his hand every day. Hell, I even miss it when he'd call me and say something so stupid that I had to laugh. I can't stand how little time we have together. And every time we are together it makes me so happy, and that's what's hurting me the most. 'Cause every time I have to be separated from him it's back to every day life and that just sucks. I want to see him more, I really, really wish that I could either call him or that I could move closer to him . . . . I feel like we haven't really 'talked' to each other in forever. I don't know, it's just that every time we're near each other all we do is play around and make out. It's upsetting to me, I want to have more conversation with words and less with our bodies. I've been so mad at every girl that's gotten near him lately, even my Cricket ( GiGi) . . . . Gah, I really need a Advil and a good nap . . . .