I cannot describe my feeling of aimlessness, indigence and loneliness right now.
I wish I could say it’s all about being in England, but it’s not. I’ve felt that way most of life….
The situation in Essex has not improved my state of mind. If anything it has made it worse… in a way. Actually in more than way.
There is no room here for me. I have to share a bed with my cousin, and well she’s a hefty chick and it’s a double bed so the end result is we’re almost on top of each other.
I’m also shocked, shocked I tell you at the condition of my cousin’s house. Her house is literally falling apart. The only reason I think the roof hasn’t collapsed is because it’s a terraced house, so the other houses are supporting the sides.
My cousin is much the same… I get the feeling she’s a nervous breakdown almost ready to go. I’ve been back in Essex four days, and the most part of that has been her screaming at the top of her lungs for one child or another.
Last night she threw one doozie of a tantrum. Granted, her eldest son was found guilty of misdemeanour vandalism, and unless she can come up with three hundred pounds they’re going to put him in jail. I didn’t get the info about how long they’d put him away for, but he’s eighteen, it’s sure to be an adult jail with adult criminals.
Of course, their near poverty is exacerbating the problem.
In short, I cannot be here much longer.
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