I'm devastated, Dad 'pruned' my kowhai tree its like he doesn't even want it to grow. Another time he smashed my fig tree in a fit of rage. It's still struggling. Anything that gets in the way of his view of the sky he just cuts without any thought.
I wondered if I can educate him but no he's deaf to anything I say. Mum doesn't care either. Its well documented that she's not a fan of trees, unless they are bonsai.
I've considered running away and living in a caravan park with the drunks and addicts and other runaways. I mean where else can I go? I thought I need a plan but nothing presents itself. I can't afford anywhere else. Earthsong is occupied.
I went for a walk around the newest housing area in Hobsonville Point but was rather dismayed that new housing costs at least half a million dollars in homes you wouldn't want to live in. There is one token community garden that consists of some rectangular beds for apartment dwellers.
I once lived with my brother and he was to be honest absolutely horrible to live with. He got mad when I left a book of mine on the coffee table. And my sister has never invited me to stay in the UK - not that I see any appeal of London whatsoever, where there's no bush. And you have to be over 70 to live in the Waitakere Gardens, I wouldn't fit in.
Maybe I'm just not meant to live anywhere else. I read this book about a woman and her husband who gave up their jobs to just walk around New Zealand and camp. They hunted rabbits and goats and foraged. But the thing is its ok for them, as they have each other, but I have nobody.
I started to think maybe I'm the problem and I'm just not good to live with anyone. The tv is too loud, and I can't stand people who cut down trees, and when I go outside, Dad yells at me to shut the door cos I'm letting cold air in the house. Some days I escape to the public library, as nobody bothers me there. I just sneak in, and my former colleagues don't accost me, I open up a book and its like I'm in the zone.
I once lived for a time in a mental hospital. My parents were relieved to lock me in for while, and give me drugs when things got out of hand, like I would be thinking I could save the world or something. You know, like reading out loud too much and having silly ideas like, if I move this out of the way, I can actually have my own space. I tell you, it was kind of nice to have your own room in the hospital all to yourself, and have a proper breakdown and be locked up. People thought I was mad because I would do stuff like start creating art to decorate the hospital, because they had nothing on the walls and it looked boring. Well I was happy because even in a mental hospital you can just read books. They don't ban books in there. Unfortunately, my reprieve didn't last long and the doctors said I was not mental enough to stay in hospital, so I got released, but I never did give up my reading habit and still quietly read books when nobody's looking.
Good news it does turn out my library degree comes in handy after all, because for the first time in my life I will have my own space. Ranui Primary School here I come.
