I find it so easy anymore to keep driving nails into the coffin that my home seems to have fallen into. Today I seriously started considering staying in DC at the cemetary, I find that being out in the bone yard and doing even the smallest things for the family gives me the deepest sense of honor I've ever felt, I've become accustomed to the area, and I don't know if I could stand being at home anymore. Not to mention everything back home keeps making it easier to walk away. I don't even talk to the biggest part of my friends anymore, and the ones that i do talk to seem to have moved on without me, except one who can't seem to find an escape other than me. I find that the rare precious things that I've known have been tainted by the prying hands of others... and I seem to be left behind, but I really don't care anymore because I have my life here. Every bit of drama, every time those who are closest to me seem to take another step away, it drives another nail, and it's almost gotten to the point that pulling all the nails out would no longer be worth it, so I sit and I wonder.