Compendium

I should probably go to bed. But i can’t. I’m just sitting here. My mind is kids busy. I haven’t seen her in five months. This shit sucks. Sometimes when I drift off I’ll imagine Shea there, and I wake up all excited. In my room by myself. That place if a fucking prison. Brock walls and steel doors included, no extra charge. The emotional side of my brain wants to burn it down so I can stay somewhere else, but the logical side tells me it won’t burn. It was built not to. I hate this place. This place is not happy. This place is dull. This place is that dark, damp corner in your mind that sneaks up on you when you don’t want it to. It’s so damn depressing here the wind doesn’t even blow at night. It’s just still. I’ve been living my life two weeks at a time every six months for too long. I need home. I need her. This place is not normal. I just want to hit the road and drive. It’s like being in a cage. Can I please just see her now?