LRE is a joke.

I hate where I live. Every day it gets a little bit worse. Each morning I wake up here I feel like another little part of me has died. A fraction of my spirit has withered to lifelessness. I'm miserable, cold, and alone. The fact that other people are around means nothing as I am their pawn.

I'm there purely to be used. Both for entertainment and nourishment. Regardless of my taped up notes, name labels, and teary begging...they have every right to eat and drink anything and everything I buy. The mommys & daddys that pay for them to sit around all day long so they don't have to work...seem to have some deal in place. Not only can their spoiled children take up space in society and do nothing to contribute...they are allowed to disrespect and consume what others have worked so hart to provide for themselves.

I've been lucky to have lots of help from my parents over the years. But I still always worked and worked hard. I never just sat around and took up space like they do.

But I suppose they need the extra time. When else could they plan ways to fuck with me and ruin whatever time off I have from working? The other night I had the fun of trying to go to bed early beofre waking at 4am from work. But of course this just can't be allowed. I was treated to a few hours of them tossing a speakerphone into my bedroom after dialing some 900 number gross sex line. Then they'd run and hide. I begged them to stop and let me sleep, but they wouldn't. They did it continuously until they finally got bored of it. Eventually I managed to fall into a teary sleep. I get a lot of those nowadays.

Last night I came home from picking my dad up at the airport to find the front door chained closed from the inside. Apparently the plan was for them to sit down and watch me try to jimmy the windows open to get into the apartment. Once I finally made entry they were going to jump out to "scare me". Mind you this was about 1am. I had been awake since the wee early morning because I was working much of the day. Lucky for me I just beat on the door so they'd let me in. They unlocked the chain but ran to hide after that. Shockingly they jumped out from behind a wall to startle me. They're such winners, aren't they?

I don't keep any drinks in the house anymore because they drink them all. Despite me begging them not to...they do it anyway. Despite the owner of the house telling them not to...they do it anyway. I also have stopped buying groceries. They eat all of that too. It doesn't matter whos name is on it. There isn't really any question as to whos food it is because they little bit of money they come in contact with goes directly to cigarettes and PlayStation 3 games. It must be Mikey's...and fuck him. We eat and drink whatever we want.

I also have stopped buying groceries. The only small amount of food I buy has to fit in my breifcase because I need to be able to lock it up. No meats or veggies. Nothing frozen. Milk has to be a loss leader for me. I buy it cheaply from Wal Mart but I have to keep it in the fridge. Most of it is gone in about 2 days. Sometimes I even get a glass all to myself, can you believe it?

The owner of the halfwayhouse, Recovery First Inc, doesn't seem to give 2 shits. This place is a joke as far as a halfway house goes. The whole idea is to work and get a job and get life back together. All recovery first has is a huge cash cow where they can collect $200 / week from each child and do a little babysitting for a few months. Then once the parents falsely believe that everyhting is okay, the little bastards get to hit the 'real world' where they can go out and instantly relapse because they get NO EXPERIENCE of what the world is like in their halfway house.

So here I am. Broke, hungry, and depressed. The funny thing is...using doesn't even come into my mind right now. As much as I hate everything about my life and pray for the curtain call...I have no drug urges or anything like that.

The only thing I long for nowadays...is releif. Take that however you choose to take it.