issues with living here, and issues with simply Living.

one of the main reasons I want to live alone is the excess and direly needed room.
and obviously I dont mean physical room, the mere thought of having no one to speak to, no one to look at me when I am sillily lying on my bed even though I am not tiered or sleepy but the absolute lack oF motion gives me infinite time and energy to thin everything into loath and oblivion.
I cant think of a less miserable way to live.
when I am silent. my god, my thoughts and the thoughts of a well plotted character in 40 year old book, that voice is clear and monotonous and by god all the inane blandness of people suffocating me with what they did yesterday is gone.
I am not cruel. I can love you and I can love nations, i just need hours and hours and months actually, away.
that doesn't seem like too much of a thing to ask, I am willing to live without the luxury of my father's money, a father who is generous and loving enough to give it with warmth.

but where I am, how I am born. I cant be given a house, and a car, and, the silence and solitude I NEED for sanity.
not sanity, just, adaptation.
do you think it's natural to fit a pair of large bosoms in a tiny tiny shirt?
this is what your doing to me and when I walk it's awkward, people look at me, the large bosoms, and know I need a bigger shirt. but they refuse, god forbid i be anything close to large bosoms.
I am sorry for this horrible metaphor.


my thoughts aren't special in anyway. and most day I am even sick of reading the same ideas and patterns the same literature, I am sick of writing the same things, and hollering out into a void, I even self reflect and laugh a little.
it's useless, worst than that I am deemed ungrateful here, and insanely oppressed there.

I am not oppressed, nor ungrateful, I just need a bigger shirt.