Everything seems to bother me today... the smell of old furniture which pervade the clothes I left on them because I forgot to keep them in the drawer, the flavorless and cold food I´ve been eating for months, the old computer getting broken today, the unfinished books under my pillow, the odd sensation of being in a very small place and yet smelling the scent of loneliness all around the house as if I was in the biggest mansion ever built, the dirty streets with garbage and dog crap everywhere, the small children screaming, the steps of the neighbour upstairs, Molly´s wrath attack; always pecking at me, the mess at the living room, the dishes piled up on the table, the suitcase on the floor, the dusty flat roof, the cardboard over the small bathroom´s trash can, the draft in the kitchen, the walls, the door, the windows, the curtains...
So Im sitting here writting this, crying and saying to myself "I hate this place!"
I feel so childish now that I realize that it´s not really that I hate this place with its old furniture and small rooms...It is not that Im mad because the computer broke down or because I ate badly today, it´s just that this place brings back to my memory things I thought I had forgotten: people and things that hurt me in the past.
This is the place where I spent the worst years of my childhood... and I miss my family, I miss my place, I miss my things. I miss you.
I just wish I could be home right now, I wish this could feel like home to me.