October 20
Today I discovered the Art Therapy room. The paitents draw or paint or whatever. Some just sit there, drooling.
I always find myself wishing I could go home, but where is home? I've lived in foster home after foster home, and I always got sent back to the orphanage. The only foster parent who I liked died.
I just need to try to make the best of things, I guess.
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Well, Half this Stuff is Fake, Cos Why Would I Tell the Truth to You?
Well, seeing that my life is pretty boring, I guess I'll write a story in here, for your personal enjoyment. Enjoy.
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Skeletons of the Mind
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