To Be Held in Shelter

I think I would get along with my family a lot better if we didn't actually live together. The only one I never fight with is my youngest sister. That's saying quite a bit since she's a thirteen year old. They are notoriously explosive. My mother complains that I seclude myself away in my room every night. "Why don't you come out here with us?" she asks. "Sometimes I just want to be alone," I reply. What I'm not telling her is that I honestly don't care to hear them editorialize Law & Order: SVU. I don't want to hear my stepdad make one jackass remark after another about anything anyone says, ever.

So I stay in my room.

There is Comfort in the Sound

I have been cleaning and ordering and organizing a lot lately. My head gets very clear when I'm cleaning. No clothes on my floor, all my books alphabetized (by author), and my bed made. It helps me cope a little. I feel better. Sometimes I can just sit on my neat bed and I don't need to be doing anything to distract myself anymore. Just let the music play in the background and relax.

Needle In The Hay

My room is so filled with stuff I have to plan my entrance around high tide. Today is the day, my friends, that I clean it once and for all. Laundry will be done, clothes folded, and actually put in the dresser. Amazing, I know. I'll find the few stray books not on my shelves. I might even get crazy and finish the accent painting around the top. Those stripes won't paint themselves. I can't wait to find all my CDs too. Those that need to be put on my Zune will be, too. I might even make my bed! Holy crap!

P.S. I'm in love. &&& This is the best love song ever. The Luckiest by Ben Folds. It's mesmerizingly beautiful.