You know you've been home for too long when you feel like you're in fucking high school again.


Just had the longest conversation ever with my Mom about all of our "family dysfunction".


Very cathartic. 


Part of it was my unhappy, ireful high school experience.


Absolute tragedy. I fucking hated high school.


Anyway, I finally learned only rather recently to let all that high school shit go. It only comes up honestly when I'm back at home, and kind of sparks the inferno, 'cuz I have anger issues. Well I did. I'm a reformed hothead.


Anyway, Mom's so right about my Sylvia Plath thing. She's like "You gotta stop reading Sylvia Plath," sorry Ma, I have three volumes of her poetry waiting for me at school...


She said morbid fascinations are normal though and okay, my younger bro always had one with the Titanic...but that's more historical. Mine's more...disconcerting. Enthrallment with suicide? God no. I need to stop. I'm gonna try to just focus on Sylvia's poetry. 


She is absolutely enchanting. And there's so much more I need to learn from her.