Wonderland USA

I'm often overlooked by most people. I daydream about running away from my grief and diving into a rabbit hole but I doubt that's ever going to happen. People are scary and my outgoing nature has always been more earnest than frivolous so I tend to take any conversational slight to heart.

And having recently just moved here from the considerably smaller island over, making friends has never seemed like such a taxing endeavor until now. Though not being one for shyness- I've never thought of anything more socially pointless- since christening my apartment I've been hesitant to actually talk to people.

My familial relations here are not the best, in fact they're rather tenuous and not at all ideal. My half sister's a crazy bitch and her mother's a miserable alcoholic. Both of my parents are dead and I was the only kid they had time to have before my mom developed ovarian cancer. That's my reality now.

Back before my dad passed this January, my life was a lot more headache inducing with him in it, but it was actually pretty nice. But that time has passed me now.

I still dream of those lazy early morning sitting in the sun room with him typing away at his computer and me scribbling his signature on overdue paperwork. The sun perpetually hanging just below the tree line in our backyard, lighting up the room but sparing our eyes from the sun's harsh glare. It's a nice floating feeling that holds me during those nights.

But alas, my dreams are often cruelly interrupted by an unpressed snooze button.