The storage in Vegas sold our provisions, again. It is the third and last storage, and it had my most valuable possessions. All my notebooks, books, my poetry from my younger years, my art, my sketches, photographs, and guitar are now gone. I thought losing my things in the storage, in California, when I was twelve was upsetting.

The one thing that upsets me most is the lies. I cannot comprehend the anger and hurt I felt on the phone; I ought to be used to this. I cannot believe that after all the years of going through things more than once results in nothing learned.

I dislike that they would not allow me to know or do anything to help. I know better than to hand our things to someone else.

This is perhaps the reason why I have trust issues.