I think I'm going crazy! ARGH ARGH ARGH! Dammit!
I WANT TO BE AN ARTIST!
I want... to have space to be myself.
I want a studio that I can occupy with all of my crazy half-formed obsessions and MAKE things. Pretty things.
I feel sick.
I need to talk to my brother and see if he'll rent a house/let me live with him/rent with him.
I need to find a way to make a bunch of money so that I can have what I want.

I want to obtain (in some way or other) MEW's 25 acres out on Old Mill Road and build a place to stay. I want to build a living spot and an arting spot. I want to jump the gun and do the unreasonable.
I can nearly reach out my hand and touch it.
I found peace in the depths of the never-ever woods back beyond and
REALIZED
(yes, realized)
That nothing is worth it; everything is worth it
That what I want is what I need
For once I know it
I want to be home
But all I can REMEMBER
ALL I can remember
all I can remember
Is the never coming home.
I can't remember that last time that life went in the direction I told it to.
I don't have goals
Just want-need-hunger-starvation
And sorrow
Because I'm never getting there
And I'm scared I never-ever will