Home is where the heart is. Its where you can't stop thinking about. Its that feeling of not needing to DO anything, even though there are things to be done, and being content with your surroundings, because they are.. YOURS!
 Home is a sanctity and  I think however you treat that temple is how you are feeling. If the house is bogged down so are you, and no matter how people try and help you , they cannot clear the clutter out of your mind. They do not know WHY you haven't done that one dish or cleaned out that cupboard. It may be a standoff between you and your house, you may be simply UNMOTIVATED and HATE that dish spoon cupboard for a given reason.Some inspire me to do better, but that usually turns too when they don't understand my argument with the dish and the spoon, and how the saucer broke and all too fucking soon.And guess what?
THATS OK
Because if you're anything like me, that driven spark just hasn't hit yet. Sometimes  its having a roommate  that should be able to use her kitchen, and other times I don't see the forest for the trees enough to care. I know the times where its been the cleanest is when I decided with no other judgement from others that that was the way I wanted my home to look, clean or filthy. 

not everything guilded is gold

 I think maybe its normal to wish for an end. A final place to rest my head for all those that never got my struggle. I wish I could give them my severed limbs. Give them my severed limbs to let them see I am just broken pieces. I want all my pieces scattered everywhere-filling holes in their reality with my mangled skin and clots forming over their black and white vision. Fill them with the meat of my fucking soul so that not only I choke on myself but they choke on the dryness of my tenderness also. They can pick me from their teeth as I pick their shrapnel from the bit of my blown mind. WE can share in the ecstasy of agony. Writhe in my blood, because no one would be silly enough to sacrifice their own. I promise you, there will be enough to cover all the scars form healed wounds. just no one to hold eithr of us once its over. You walk away proudly. DO IT. You walk and with each step leave footprints in my blood. It takes understanding to feel guilt, and it takes gold to be guild. but not everything gilded is gold.