Life is anything but easy right now. I’m in Wisconsin, but I desperately don’t want to be. Until further notice I can only seem to attribute my actions to one goal: return to San Francisco.
I feel like I’m going a little crazy here, actually. Back at my mothers house…I haven’t lived with my mother since I was 17, and even then I never really spent much time in the house. In the morning we would leave fairly quickly to go to school, which was 20 miles away in a different town, and then after school I would go to my grandparents for a couple of hours, which was really an enjoyable experience; good vibes at my grandparents house. Finally, at the “end of the day” my mother would pick me up and we would go home. Home was the worst. Home still is the worst. Deep down I am very scared that nothing is going to work out, and I am going to end up miserable forever. But at the same time, that seems unlikely because I have come a long way, and there have been times in recent history I have been quite happy.
I just don’t know what to do.
I know that I should be taking this time to write a book, that way, once quarantine is over, I have something to go around and talk about; something to sell.
That’s it. That’s the fucking method and I know it is.
Will I succeed? I’m not sure. I can’t tell if I should leave Wisconsin or not. I really hate it here. If I could use a stronger word than hate, I would. I’m not sure what the meaning of life is anymore. And my back hurts more and more every day.
UPDATE! I almost figured out how to pay the rent!
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