The state of my life in general can often be gauged by the state of my bedroom. If it's too clean you can be pretty sure that I am distracting myself. Pretending to be tidy and organized but I'm not. Pretending that I'm ok. On the other end hand, if my room is ridiculously messy, you can be certain that I'm too pissed off or upset or bored to even bother anymore. Lying on the floor amidst the mess seems like a better option. Quitting completely vs Pretending.

So looking around me right now, my bed isn't made, I'm wearing the same clothes as last night listening to Lifehouse, there is a basket of clean laundry waiting to be folded that has been there since Monday, DVDs are everywhere and the cases are somewhere else, there is a pile of hangers right in the middle of the floor and if I try to hang anything else on the back of my door I won't be able to get in the door. Nothing I own has a lid on, drawers are just open, my lampshade is crooked and I could open a cafe with the number of coffee cups lying around.

Is this a cryptic enough way to tell y'all that life is shite?

Where is God?