Where is home? It depends on my state of mind at the moment what I mean by that. My apartment, Uppsala, or Dala. The worse I'm feeling, the further I wanna go. Maybe that's not so strange, all things considered.
I wanna meet someone I could call a friend on this island, preferably in the town where I live. Perhaps I could find someone who isn't from here either. Someone who also knows what it's like to be broken. Maybe it's time to pay another visit to the asylum? Nah, just kidding, I don't wanna go there. All they do there is feed you food and medicine and hollow advice for a fee of hundred bucks a day.
They don't prevent suicide. I don't think they even want us mentally disturbed to survive. What future could we possibly have? Maybe they're right. Maybe life just isn't worth living with a mind like this. But it's fine, it's okay. If I die I wouldn't mind, but living is easier.
Cause I don't have to do anything to survive, not more than I already do. Basic survival is fairly easy. It's harder to die, I mean. Takes a lot of planning, courage and determination. I'm not determined to do anything. Not even living, definitely not living. I'm just lingering here, waiting for that courage to end my life.
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