Ever since I got home (or maybe even on my commute), I feel strange. I can’t help but wonder what will happen when I move to my apartment, and for a few weeks, nothing but me and the boob tube. Will I ever be the same, knowing that for the first time ever my primary residence will be something other than a parent’s house. I can’t feel anything but a new kind of loneliness when this happens. I’ve always felt like the world has turned away from me, and now I’m going to have a place to myself. It boggles me to no end that I’m willing to finally accept this big step (though I should say giant leap). Does this mean I’ll be more accepting of being alone? Or will I kick and scream to no end, lashing my tongue at the world for something that I must admit I set myself up. I must admit, it’s all culminating into something that I can’t be sure of whether it’ll benefit me or ravage me. What if I do get in over my head? Will someone actually be there to pull me out? Or will I have to do it all by myself, something we can’t help but admit as kids but are much more reluctant to admit as adults? We all knew a time of change was coming for me. I’ve grown more intolerant of being ignored. Maybe that’s why I’ve started to enjoy things like karaoke. For a few minutes, at least people will hear you, and sometimes they’ll even listen. They say I do well, but then that gets said to everyone. I’ve always believed that most people compliment each other just so feelings won’t get bruised. That’s why I can’t trust anyone that easily. I have no way of proving sincerity, and no one has tried to help me prove otherwise.
Bleh, I have to take Adam and his laundry home. You can tell how thrilled I am. not