What should I do? Should I try to get a place of my own or should I try to replace some of the equipment I lost? That's the fundamental question.

Case #1. I could do many things were I on my own that are difficult, if not impossible, here. I could write and draw with some comfort. I could exist, simply, without consideration of whose toes I might be stepping on, or who might be bugging the living hell out of me at any moment. It would seem to me that, if I were to be free, I could write stories and poetry to send out onto the market in hopes of garnering sales. That itself would help me to replace some equipment. And if I were to play and make extra money that way, atop of the ever-present possibility of drawing for hire, I might do alright.

Or...

Case #2. I could stay here and round up equipment before I leave. I think I would be totally, raving mad by the time I did leave, but I'd have the tools for therapy. I could work on my music and send demos into the marketplace, which is, I think, what I need to do.

:: sigh ::

I have to admit that the former seems more attractive. As I write, they are gathered in the living, jabbering like a bunch of monkeys. Its only a matter of time before the television is turned on and cranked up, most likely on the shopping channel.

Shit. I suppose my decision has been made.

I brought Carmen over here last night so that I could get a tape. I showed her my little building, and I have to admit that the key word which ran through my mind was “pathetic”.

And that is my life. All is not as it should be. Nor is it as it could be. So I should make up my mind. And I should make do on my promises ... and on my desires.