Last night I read this really cool phrase from a book- foam-rubber pancakes. Out of all the action in the book, that's all I can think about. I think I have a sick obsession with food. But the way it so aptly and succinctly describes pancakes is really artful. That, to me, defines good writing- how few words can you use to express your ideas?
How do you fend off an overprotective mother? How do you quit being "mommy's (19-year-old) little helper"? I feel suffocated. I need an outsider's perspective. I need a friend. I'm drowning. I'm addicted to my so-called comfort zone of being at home and having my mother take care of me. I'm practically twenty- when will I finally start being my own person? Last night, I could have done what I have done every Saturday night for months- eat dinner, then have some fattening desserts accompanied by cups of tea drenched with honey, and then vegetate in front of the TV with my mom and her friend Brian. But as much as I don't want to be alone on a Saturday night, I really don't like being with my mom and just doing the same old thing. I usually don't like the dinner she makes, eating desserts makes me feel guilty, I hate tea, and I don't really like rotting my brain in front of the TV. What I need is a social life- but how to get it?