Home is where the Constable Is

It’s been over a week since I lost my home for the second time. I have lost it due to my mother’s neglect of essential bills, lending money to me sister, buying Amazon and eBay’s entire stock, and that crack addict of a neighbors’ thievery of $569. I have gotten into a fight with my sister’s husband a little over a month ago, and fate has landed me at their doorstep. I don’t beg: Never have, never will. My mother and sister bargained with my brother-in-law to allow me into their home due to “extraordinary” circumstances. Since then my sister’s home has been one clusterfuck of a mess with 7 people and 10 cats, not to mention the other members of the Animal Kingdom residing in each room. The deal allowing me to stay required me to stay in one of the kid’s bedrooms the entire time, the exception being let out to help with whatever needs doing. I have been steadily losing my patience being in one room dealing with a family that treats me lower than one of the ten million family pets. Christ, the damn cats get better treatment than me as they get what they need ASAP. Meanwhile I just got shoes today I have been needing for almost 2 years now. I have been thinking once I do gain the ability to leave and support myself on my own to just disown my family due to the treatment I have suffered that they not only strongly deny, but justify the wrongs the bestowed upon me. I realize I am not a nice person: Never Have, Never Will. The only exception being is if I like you, otherwise you are a sack of shit for me to demean. That being said, it is probably a way of putting off the suffering I endured on to someone else. Home has never been kind to me, no matter where or what my home is. I will most likely never settle down, just move on to new and different places whilst burning the bridges I come across in the process.

Until next time,

Ronzil

Ramp Up the Cramped Space

I’ve been focusing on a few of my problems and thus far, only one has been solved… partially. The problems are as follows: Confront my brother-in-law and admit and discuss our problems, and how we can better ourselves. I admitted my flaws, but I couldn’t bring myself to confront my brother-in-law on his due to my fear of the problems becoming physical. The other problem is a doozy. Making the most of what little space we have in this rat’s nest we call an apartment. The problem doesn’t lay within the boundaries of moving furniture around, it lays within getting the approval of my mother to do so. She says nobody moves anything around except my sister, or else she calls the police. Well hot damn! No wonder this shithole looks the way it does. I tried time and time again, but alas, I couldn’t really make any progress without threats from my mother. That, me living in the living room, and the landlord making false promises about a bigger apartment are setting me over the edge. I honestly don’t know what to do anymore when I get up out of bed. It’s getting to the point where playing games are not soothing the seething pain I endure day in and day out. Not that I make it any better. Hopefully that landlord, who dresses like an 1980’s druglord, makes good on his promise.

Yuck! Water Food!

After we went to CVS, ate at Applebee’s last night, went to Pet(’s or -S)Mart, we finally got home after 4 hours (4:00-8:00 P.M.), I ate the last of the nachos, which were soggy, easily rippable, nachos that I did not know about until I put them into my big, non-stop talking mouth. I bet you will think that is gross too. Today, I went to BK, ate, went to Weis, got some goodies, then went to my sister to relax and now I’m typing this. Tommorow, I will go to BK and get a King Bobblehead. Man, the King looks like my friend who seriously needs help. My mom is his former ex-wife, and is helping him escape from druglords.