Achtzehn Monate

Ich bin wieder hier. In this town that I'm not feeling mine anymore, and it's like something is feeling wrong, I feel like a stranger, I don't feel easy here, everything is stressful and vain, all comes down to nothing. Last Friday I woke up at 4 am in the morning, ready to leave the fucking jungle astupind going back home. Problem is Home is not the proper word for this place, my town, my parents' house, everything is feeling absolutely strange.

The same day I barely had lunch and the responsability called my door...I need money and there's a way to get it but I'm gonna be attached to a bank for eighteen months...one year and a half, and the worst part is fuckkkkk I don't feel like getting compromises, a year and a half is a long time, anything can happen and I'm there, engaged, there's no way I could run away, away from everything that is killing me slowly, I can see it in the mirror now, I'm not eighteen anymore, I'm getting older by the day and I haven't gotten anything I could considerer meaningful, but I can choose living a life that worths living even if I'm in the jungle, or if I'm here...where my brain doesn't work properly...here I feel blocked, I have no peace, this house is not quite enough...there's noise everytime, the tv, the people, it's not a silence around and I feel stressed because of that.

Next week is gonna be important, I'm gonna be free for 10 days (or more it depends) and I wanna do some things I like, partyin, knowing new places, fuck, all those things I do like to do and that according to me makes life worth living.