my life as a house
Monday, Jul. 11, 2005   3:23 pm

in fort lauderdale i am. i live in a motel behind the ramada. it has a name, but no sign to acknowledge that fact.

airplanes fly over every 5 minutes. sometimes more. sometimes less. but they fly right overhead. i have to turn up the tv, or, momentarily, stop the phone talking as soon as i see the lights in the distance. planes are fast.

i hate it there. i am so horribly desperate to get out. but where is there to go? nowhere. i have no one else to live with. and i would feel horrible leaving my mom. i feel like itd be a huge slap in the face to her. i couldnt do that-we are in this together now.

i dont know when i got so picky-so spoiled. ive lived in worse than this. i have my own bed now. in the past ive had to share a bed with matthew. with my mom. with both of them.

ive been 100% homeless. at least now i have a roof. at least i know where im going to sleep each night. once upon a time, my life was nowhere near as predictable as this. we were actually kicked out of the salvation army. that was our last resort and we were kicked out.

i lived for 3 months in a bedroom of a roach infested house with my mom and brother.

when did i become so damned spoiled and picky? 10 years ago from today i was living in a hotel. if i could do it as a 9 year old, as a 10 year old, as an 11 year old-i can definitely do it now, as a 19 year old.

i have to.