I love when the whole house is quiet. I love it when the days are slow. The peaceful days I've been longing for is still out of reach. As long as I remain in this house, I can always hear the loudness. I want to hear even a faint whisper of change when the morning starts. I know it will be the same old people with no manners always starting the noise. No respect to personal space. I hate their voices echoing in every parts of my ear canal. I don't want to be angry anymore. Maybe I should just cry to let them see what I truly feel even though I couldn't say it loudly that they are the fucking problem. It is a sad situation. I hope I can get out of this. This place is the definition of misery.
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