I feel sick, every single little thing comes so close to sending me into a silly little meltdown. Why ndoes the material of the desk I'm writing on make me feel like I'm covered in dust, why does the water in this corsed city make me feel like I have hair on the roof of the back of my throat. And why does that make me extremely aware of my uvula. The pressure behind my eyes is getting harder to control and eveery minute spent not distracting myself is just a minute closer to waterworks. How do people even live here. I want to go home, I was ment for the mountains. Tea doesn't help the water still makes my water feel like coton, my skin is still greasy and I can feel myself spiraling and the mould I used to never notice is everywhere and I can't tell if it's affecting me or...
I don't know if the way I feel is related to the mould, is it just how I am, or is the mould only adding to it. I miss my candles. I have light I just miss the candles and all they brought. They really helped hide the smell of mildew. I want to go home so bad, I hate it here. I miss my dog. The tea doesn't help. I feel disgusting here. and I miss my short hair.
