Tonight I am actually doing homework, well sort of. If making half of it up counts, than yes I am doing homework. I don't want too. I really just want to get in the car and drive to the nearest bar. I need release from this burden. I feel like a chained up dog starving in some drug dealers back yard. My, what a vivid description. I love to exaggerate. I live for it. It is what all writers do. Build something out of nothing. Make a mountain out of an ant hill. Writers wouldn't be writers if they didn't. The world would be a slower place without artists. If I could paint with words. My painting would never get finished. I think when I get older I should open a writer's sanctuary. Somewhere to escape. Or a great big home for all the abused and neglected children out there. Those are my dreams. Fluffly. Light. Airy. Mistaken. Hopeless. I wish I had love. One fabulous love. Someone with whom nothing else mattered. Someone who could just tell me everything is going to be okay. One wonderful love. I've never been in love. I've been in lust before. There's a huge difference, but not much. I want love. I'll end up waiting forever. Once forever gets here. I'll be horribly disappointed. I just wish I had someone to hold my hand. Rub my shoulder. Nudge me in the back. Make me smile. Love me. Just someone to love me. I'm going to be all alone soon. Once my mother and John are gone, I'll have no one. 21 years old and I am afraid of losing my only family. Am I a baby? Is it wrong to be scared of being all alone? Just someone to hold my hand. I am done.