House arrest for the rest of your life.
“It wont be that bad.”
That was the first day of house arrest.
Now, I want to drown myself in the bathtub because I am going insane.
Indubitably, I am not going to stay home for the rest of my life.
Wait… I am.
What do I do? I literally have done everything, I can at home.
A man can only try to self improve so much in one place. I cannot clean, what is not dirty. There is nothing I can do.
I made breakfast and invited people over; no one showed up. No one ever does. Might as well get started with my day then; so I go back under my blankets and try to sleep. I want the next day to come already.
My body is decomposing as we speak.
Life doesn’t exist here. Time is only passing as I lay in my casket.
The telephone rings and I rush to answer it.
Then the dreaded question comes up – “What did you do today?”
“Nothing”, I say. Nothing at all.
I rather go to prison and get brutally assaulted in the bathroom stall.
How does one enjoy spending the majority of their life inside?
Please send me to prison. I cannot survive any longer in this comfortable home.
If I wake up to do nothing for one more day: I swear to you, I will light myself on fire to suffer through the most excruciating pain.