Maybe

I have been trying to accept my destiny, but I cannot stand this filthy apartment anymore. Since I left my house, I have been dealing with unbearable dirt. I feel pretty grim. In spite of low temperatures, I try to spend most time outside, far away from this dreadful place. When I go to a cafe or a department store, I feel clean and human again. My cold bedroom is in a mess, but I have no strength to tidy it up. It is useless, anyway. There is no room for my things and little bags pile up here and there. I have no strength to look at it either. How can people choose this way of living? It is a mystery to me. Maybe tomorrow this harshness will not affect me. Maybe. 

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