raudra/bhayanaka

I could ask why people don't just fucking answer or get back to me, but then I'd be a hypocrite where you're concerned, hm? You're brave. Braver than I thought.

Frustration: In my time of need, I'm in a drought; I'm all dried up, and no one's answering my messages or calls. I'm this close to exploding in someone's face, the fuse is that short.

And how don't you get it? Why couldn't you just let it be? Why did you have to speak up like that? Safe is the road I have to take with you, and honesty would be stunt driving. I'm a coward. A hypocrite. I don't practice what I preach, not when it counts, at least.

Fear: There is not enough money to pay rent. There is not enough money to pay bills. There is not enough money to pay first month's rent on the new place. There's barely enough to eat, were all the rest taken care of. Obviously, this is not something I'm good at. I'm going to owe my mother a lot of money when I have enough, and I'm afraid that asking this time might be the last straw. Especially since I've broken the one (and only) steadfast independent-housing rule she gave before I left for here, and that is not to have any male roommates. Effin' A. Really? But how can I argue when she helps me?

I'm not sad, I'm not weeping. Not yet.

I'm a fox being chased by hounds, and I don't know where to hide next.