home sweet home, ain't that great ?

-the view at home.-

I would not call that great, it's a house full of bricks. Honest. I think they have hardly noticed that I'm home. they plan birthday parties, family weekends, I guess they just don't think of me or just don't want me to come. Every year I feel they forget about me harder. I don't think of it as surprising anymore that they don't talk to me, and barely look my way. I'm here 'cause I miss home and I wanna be with them but here I am more alone than in Antwerp. Every time it is so hard to endure. I may as well be a plant in the living room, even then they would forget to give me water. I know I'm lucky, at least I have parents. But believe me this way of life, getting anything that you heart desires except the love and recognition from your parents, it fucking hurts. It hurts madly.

goddamn dad, you must be blind not to see me drown.