Writingbolt's Creation

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I am barely able to type words right now.  I may have lost everything I’ve ever called my own, everything I’ve invested in and spent time creating outside this laptop.  My home was flooded last night.  I tried to save what I could and couldn’t take anything but a few items with me that I could carry, because rescue crews were no help.  My family was no help.  I barely escaped a crumbling basement alive, and my family was still telling me what I was doing wrong instead of being helpful or supportive.

I have no art supplies.  No art history.  No guitars I was saving for a time I could play with someone I loved.  I have no love.  No friends who reach out to me with help.  Just a bunch of people telling me what I SHOULD do with my life.  My stories in notebooks…may be lost.  My artworks….may be lost.

The water was coming in so fast.  It’s still raining and will rain for 3 days more.  I watched a nightmare crumble around me and tried to photograph what I could with a crappy digital camera….for what?  For a family that has so little understanding and tolerance of me as I am?

I just found out a pen pal from Germany, a rare online friend, just died from chemo, from losing that fight so many lose when steered down a path they can’t change because no one is on there side.  She had no one.  I have no one that makes me feel good about anything.  My family is a hot mess.  I am a bigger hot mess.

I am lucky to be typing these words.  They may be the last you ever read, whoever finds this.