Guess who needed to visit the hospital again? Yes, my mom. I just doesn't f*cking stop. Whenever I think that I can rest knowing she will be okay, getting recovered and stuff... She either gets sick again, or sad in a away I can't help no matter what.

I hate this shit! But what fault do I have? None. What fault does she have? none. As a matter of fact, nobody has any fault. We are both doing our best, but it is never f*cking enough. This makes my blood boil. I'm tired of taking care of this house, really f*cking tired.

Whenever I look it's fur, dog piss and shit everywhere. I lost the counts of how many days I am dealing with this shit.
Not to mention the f*cking sink... Jesus Christ... I washed the dishes like... Yesterday. And now the sink is full of dirty dishes AGAIN? How? How in the name of GOD is this possible? We barely did two meals yesterday.

And now I have to cook? I f*cking refuse. I don't want. If I see another f*cking dish, I throw it from my window.
And yet, I don't want to study, I don't want to draw... But what f*cking difference does that make right now? To my mom it feels like the end. I should be studying, it's our sacred deal.

BUT I DON'T HAVE F*CKING PATIENCE TO DO IT. FUCK THOSE PUBLIC WORK OPPORTUNITIES.
I really wish that I had enough emotional patience to face all of it, but I don't. It appears whenever I get through one hell, another randomly appears.