Depressed.
What a funny word for laying on the bed, curled around my blanket, staring blankly at the wall. I guess I hide it well. Well, mostly.
Been this way since I moved.
Empty room. Tomb. White washed walls, dead.
Space, abnormally filled,
off kelter
I don't fit
My stuff doesn't fit.
I do not belong here.
Depressed.
I do not belong here.
But where do I belong?
california beckons...
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