It was another brisk afternoon. Similar to the ones she knew to grow up with her whole life. Sitting there with a mug of cold black tea– she wasted time. That’s what the days have come to be for her, just another waste of time. Perhaps she’d read a book, perhaps she’d journal, maybe work on the 12-steps or just fiddle around on Facebook. What to do? For now she just listens to the clock tick for a while. She didn’t remember the clock ticking so loudly before. But then again she hadn’t been in her dad’s house for over a month– it must be new. They were always buying little things for the house. Although they swore they would sell the place and move to Oregon when they retire; creating that picture perfect home was still a high priority.
What’s with the world, she thought. What’s with all this material stuff? We can’t even necessary prove our immediate existence. There goes the ringing in her ears. It seems to arise every time she delves too deep with these questions on reality. Just live, just move along, she tells herself. But what to do when your just some bored human that has been fighting with addiction, bipolar one and an eating disorder. God, she is so screwed up.