In a line; in a song I once heard.

In a line; in a song I once heard.

I’m sorry I haven’t been blogging, but things are really getting out of hand. How is it possible to feel completely restless yet incredibly tired all at the same time? I feel like I have no fucking anchor anymore.

I just feel so fucking agitated every time I’m home. I use the word ‘home’ loosely here. I have no place to sleep; it’s more like a private library except without any books. It’s just a quiet place where you come to do your own shit then fuck off from when it gets late.

I’m a messy person, I’ll be the first to admit that. But it’s come to the point where it’s so excessively messy that I find myself getting agitated by it and that’s truly saying something.

I willingly gave up my room when my grandma came to stay and have been camping out in my brother’s room since he entered the army. Now that he’s out, we’re basically fighting for space/survival. 40% of my stuff is out here in the fucking LIVING room, 45% is in the room, and the other 15% is basically scattered all over the fucking house. I just feel so pissed off whenever I come home; it’s just .. too fucking messy OAISDAOISJDAOISDJ!?!?!

Do you know what I have to do just to fucking pack my parcels??

1) Compile address on macbook in the living room

2) Print address in the printer that’s in my room

3) Knock for about a thousand years while waiting for my brother to wake the fuck up to open the fucking door

4) Grow a beard in the process of waiting

5) Try not to get pissed off when he finally opens the door (with a long-suffering SIGH to boot (!@*&#(!*)

6) Climb over his mattress / debris to get to the printer while balancing the macbook

7) Print addresses, climb out of the room

8) Set macbook + addresses on the dining table

9) Mentally prepare self before diving back into the batcave for cleaning supplies

10) Try my best not to accidentally-on-purpose step on my stupid brother’s face because it’s not his fault for occupying the room. I know this; I truly do but it doesn’t stop me from feeling pissed off

11) Gather packing supplies, pack my shit, and get the fuck out of this place before I ragequit life and my head explodes.

The main reason why I got so agitated in the first place? It took me 20 fucking minutes just to find my fucking FBTs. I just wanted to go for a run. Why is it so fucking difficult??? Now I’m just sitting here, sweating and swearing while mentally shredding the FBTS that I finally found at the bottom of a random basket.

I know it sounds so exaggerated; how can any place be that messy right? WRONG.

Have a look:

This is what sits behind my seat. My seat is that stupid wooden block, which sits in front of the glass dining table, which obviously I’ve conquered and made my own due to lack of space. Which in turn, pisses my mom off because she can’t stand the mess which in turn pisses me off further cause’ whenever I try to explain to her that I just don’t have enough space, she just gets mad and unreasonable and I want to jump off a cliff. But that’s a whole other story la. Back to the mess that is .. my mess. Wow I’m punny when I’m cranky lol.

Typewriter. Packing Supplies. More packing supplies. And yes that’s a fucking awesome vintage candy dispenser machine that I’ll be putting up for sale on Nakedglory. Yes, a mess can still be made out of completely awesome stuff. This is also the neatest part of the living room, I shit you not.

The living room table a.k.a my territory. We can now never have family meals LOL. Laptop, scotch tape, packing supples, clothes, bags, more clothes and (Surpise!) more clothes in a basket behind.

More clothes, shoes + bags + hangers + belts + even more clothes

Another random part of my living room. Clothes + clothes + chocolate + clothes.

Room. The mattress on the floor NEVER gets taken out, so I have no space to do work. There’s a table blocking the main door and my cupboards, so without access to my cupboards, I just throw everything on the chair + baskets so now it just looks like the aftermath of a typhoon.

Urgh looking at all that just makes me even more pissed off. I just feel like kicking 20 kids all at once :'( !

In September, I’m starting school and my grandma’s moving to another uncle’s house. I’ll finally have my own room; and my own bed. I’ve been planning my room and thinking about it for about 17 hours a day, give or take lol. I sincerely can’t wait. I have a special folder on my laptop named ‘Roomspiration’, in which I’ve amassed a shitload of pictures of my dream room/house. Maybe I’ll share some of them tomorrow. Ah okay enough ranting, gonna go run now ttyl!

On a side note, I’m trying to have all emails replied by tonight. Hmkay ttyl!

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