I am sad when I hold nothing in my hands and sad when I hold something I have not been given the option to reject. I resent the idea of living in my own squalor but reject the notion of tidying my own space. I decline to be in the company of others but detest the idea of loneliness in the dark of night. I am dubious of knowing exactly how my life unfolds but entirely terrified of not knowing. I never know what I want and I never want anyone to help me decide.