I want. To snap.

How appropriate that this challenge be covered in twos. That number has been following me for years now. I first noticed when I lived in apartment number 22. When I was 22 years old. And I constantly wore my favorite sweater - which was stitched with the number 22. I have been seeing either 22 or 222 almost every day since 2020. And what a coincidence that this challenge is overflowing with 2s. $222.22, with a minimum of 222 entrants, ending on 2/22/22, and I'm seeing this challenge and participating on 2/2/22.

I just came back from a walk. Took me 2 hours. On the way I've been crying because I was just kicked out and given 2 months to find somewhere else to live. Not because I don't pay rent - I do. Not because I'm rude and disrespectful - I'm not. Not because I drink or do drugs - I don't. Not because I throw parties or always have people over - I don't. But because I like to be alone and never leave my room. I don't eat, or socialize, and don't clean as often as my family would like me to. It hurts their feelings so I'm being kicked out. On my walk, I asked for the universe's favorite way to fuck with me and send me a sign with the number 2 if I should just embrace the parts of me I've been keeping locked up. I passed by many mailboxes and house addresses with the number 22, but I decided those don't count. Then - moments after I decide this - I look up (which is rare for me to do on a walk) and glance at a pole. The pole had the number 90222 written on it.

That's it. That's my sign. I have no money, no friends, and no place to go. My family had just told me to leave and I have no desire to do anything with my life because nothing is fun or worth my time. Because I'm severely depressed and want to do nothing. I have no passions and no motivation. Because no matter how much I "grind," the rich will always be rich and I will always struggle with things as simple as trying to keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach. I'm done caring about the world and its rules. The rules made for the rich, the straight, the males, the whites. I'm done caring. They don't care about me, so why should I care about them? They can break the rules all they want and get away with it, so why can't I? What's the point of having rules if the worst ones out there are getting away with everything?

I just want to snap. Embrace my crazy and dangerous side. The parts of me my deadbeat dad passed onto me. I can stop trying to ignore my schizophrenia and pretending to be normal, stop holding back my anger and allowing others to walk all over me, and finally I can allow myself to do whatever I want at any moment based on my random impulses whether it's something as small as watching a movie at 2 am or trying to become a pirate and setting sail for months. I don't want to be a hero or a villain. I'm done trying to be a "bad bitch" or "that bitch." I don't want to be a king, queen, prince, or princess. It's all so fucking boring. I just want freedom. Pure, absolute freedom. I want to live a fun, rule-free life (within reason of course, not saying I want to go around murdering everyone, but you can be damn sure I'll break a motherfuckers jaw with a hammer if they want to mess with me). I'm tired of being a bystander in my own life. Of being too afraid to stand up for someone else because maybe I'll be hurt instead or maybe - God forbid - people won't LIKE me and think I'm a bitch. Fuck everything. Just let me snap and stop caring about the consequences like death or where to live or not having money or if I'll eat that day or if I'll end up in jail or if I'll be judged. Fuck worrying about retirement or even making it to old age. Just fuck everything and let me live. Damn. Tired of it all.