It's not easy to move anywhere, even if you have the money. (Had a downpayment for a house last year. This year I'm in debt 30k) And even if I did I don't even enjoy my passions anymore. I used to just pack up and head off to the forest for days and lie in a hammock reading or hiking the hills. Now I can barely get out of bed without putting my fist through a wall or beating my coffee maker into pieces leaving me with a shredded hand. I just frisebeed a 20 pound weight through a wall. I don't want to work anymore. I'm too injured to enjoy the extreme shit I used to do. Going out and taking pictures when I hate everyone and have no one to share them with anymore seems like a waste of time and energy if I'm not even enjoying myself. I no longer enjoy being alive and it makes no sense to me. If I didn't feel retarded for thinking this, I might almost believe there's some kind of targeted energy device pointed at me. I don't know what to do anymore. So I lie in bed and try to sleep because at least when I'm stoned and sleeping the nightmares don't harass me and my brain is shut off for the most part. I understand why Michael Jackson wanted to sleep all the time now.