Seventeen

I haven't written in here in (which seems like) weeks. I'm lonely. I think that becoming homeless in Europe sounds more exciting than my life at the moment. I'm scrounging for new music and avoiding cleaning my room. I feel disgusting, devastated, and definitely depressed. All I do is sit and dream and wish that my life would pick up, speed ahead of the torrent, and wind itself into my head. I just want to go to college already and leave this wretched place behind. Television doesn't satisfy me anymore, and my heart is cracking, bruising, and bleeding through all my hushed up tears. I want to cry. I want to get a piercing. I want to get a tattoo. I want to just change, have something mind blowing, mind altering.