I'm moving out. Again. I guess I'm kinda surprised I managed to last nearly an entire year under my father, ahem, my master's tyranny. Yes, he is a tyrant. The fucking Anti-Christ.

I swear on my life, I really tried to make it work. I ignored so many things and brushed them off. But the truth is, we can only get along when we're not under the same roof. The constant belittling, mind games, lack of privacy with my mail/belongings and threats must grind to a halt or I will fucking kill somebody. Most likely myself. I look forward to having self-confidence and less stress. Paying rent is most certainly worth my sanity.

I will not be moving back in. Not while I'm alive and kicking, that is. I said that the last time I moved out... but not knowing anyone in the U.S.A. kinda limited my options when I moved here. I will live on the streets as a crack whore before I ever move back in. We all get along so well when we're not living together. It's really amazing, actually. I look forward to that as well.

Over half of my belongings are packed up in boxes that I picked up from work last night. I left them in my trunk until I was awoken by screaming threats from my father at 6AM this morning. I bit back and he told me to pack my shit and leave. The look on his face when I said that sounded like a good idea and went to my car to actually retrieve my boxes was absolutely priceless. In a matter of minutes, he suddenly wanted to help. "Do you need any money?" "Want any help with that?" "If you need anything, just let me know." Et cetera. Et cetera. Unfuckingbelievable. I haven't heard him say any of those words since I ran out and moved last year.

But that's all behind us now. Wish me luck on finding a decent place to call home.

Cheers to a new beginning.