I wanted my friend to draw a picture of me the day we accepted the house had a problem. We made it clear that it was not us that had the problem; it was the house. We had no problems.

It started slowly, as many major problems do, then grew.

I grew a dread lock over the period of the four months I had been away from the house. People with dreadlocks had always been scary to me, and now I am one of them. I always asked, How do you think I would look with dreads, and people said they could not imagine such a thing.

I wouldn't have imagined fleas taking over the house. I would have thought it would be fairies or some other mythical creature, but not something real, living in our couches, eating our legs, crawling up our arms. I can't stop itching.

For a change, I am resting. I am not the same person that left last March. I have no interest in crystals, for instance, and I am not in love with anyone. I stay out as long as I can, and avoid crowds and any loud mobs. My friend has a talent for designing things and makes these beautiful drawings of houses. He built one once, though it still has no roof. I wanted him to draw a picture of me. I also wanted him to do other things to me.

Drawing is different from designing. I am planning things. I am planning to leave here.