New week, new home. I feel like a gypsy. I never stay anywhere long. It hardly ever occurs to me to be homesick. What home am I sick for? I've got nothing. But I feel like that tonight. It's like that first night at camp when your parents are waving goodbye and you suddenly realize that you don't want to be a week without them. God, I miss when someone actually cared about me and me alone. I'm 21 years old and I still feel like a kid. I'm sitting here at Jenn's and I'm wondering if I'll ever find a place where I belong. And someone to belong to. I've been running towards something headlong for what seems like forever. And what am I running to? Nowhere. I'm a dead end. I've accomplished nothing and I have nothing to accomplish. I don't really have any friends. I'm constantly testing my family's generosity. I think if I just started walking now and I ended up somewhere far away it'd be better for everybody. I'm sick of being a drain on people. And I'm sick of this deafening silence. A silence that only comes when you realize that you are nothing and you will forever be nothing and there isn't anything anybody, especially you, can do about it.