Thia Fall's Questionnaire

Whenever I'm asked about where I live, I feel tempted to answer with one of the following: my apartment, my mind, my always-on computer screen. They would, after all, be rather accurate summaries of my day-to-day life, monotonous and cyclical. Not all, however, would be satisfied with just that; no, they need to know a location that is concrete, that they can pinpoint on the map, be it from casual curiosity or for something more annoying. For them I shall deign to answer this question properly, just this once.

I live at Ormond Beach. It is a coastal resort city with more tourists than sense, seemingly idyllic on the surface. I know better, though: the old guard, the long-term population, all the people not under the umbrella of seasonal turnover are largely rotten to the core with hatred and blind judgement. Were one to think of the stereotypical racist uncle, these are exactly the people that qualify. Smart people, on the other hand, never move here in the first place, choosing to dodge the stray bullet. The only reason I myself hadn't done the same and instead remained at this godforsaken paradise is because I am, unfortunately, still dependent on my father. Both the apartment I live in and the food I buy are paid for by his wallet. It would've been much better if father hadn't sold the house I had grown up in, back in another state more northern than this, because then I'd not have to deal with all these people... but oh well. Despite my current plight, anything's better than being homeless.

My apartment - called 'mine' simply because neither father nor mother stay here for longer than a month or so per year - has two bedrooms, two bathrooms, a living room and a kitchen connected to it via a bar. As far as living spaces go, it is rather comfortable. One of the bedrooms is designated for my parents and is covered in religious imagery, and I keep the door to it closed simply so it stays out of my mind. The other is, expectedly, mine - unlike theirs, though, mine is quite lacking.

I suppose that growing up without really having a room for myself, being always kept in sight through an arrangement of mirrors and discouraged from hiding away in safer places, had never really trained that 'customize-my-room' muscle others tend to have. Instead, I keep myself firmly planted in the corner of the living room at my computer. Unorthodox? Perhaps, but in controlling environments one takes all they can get away with. My parents being blithering idiots when it comes to technology just helps me escape the physical world without strife.

So, when coming back to the question of where I'm truly alive, I suppose I should answer with 'the digital world' instead. It sure applies to me more than some meaningless name of an overrated city. Under any other circumstance - particularly had I been as bigoted as my neighbors - I would've settled for staying here, enjoyed the warm beaches and walkable eateries forever. But whatever timeline that might've been, it isn't this one, because I have higher ambitions guiding me.

Though time may pass seamlessly in this Limbo of a life, one day I will find a way out of here. It is not a question of 'if', but of 'when'; it is set in fated stone. I will claw my way towards freedom, be it with father's reluctant help or by myself no matter what.

And, perhaps, somewhere along the way or at the end of the journey, I might even find family worth a damn. Dubious though my luck may have been so far, hope for contentment and safety keeps me going.

At the moment, I get most of my money from my father. Given he is quite successful in the entertainment sphere, he has a decent amount of funds available to him. He isn't... there much, exactly, so him letting me leech off of his wealth feels almost like an apology. Frankly, I'd rather take it than not.

I don't spend money on much, mostly groceries and the like. My wardrobe isn't too diverse either, and I don't feel the need to expand it. Various online transactions do sometimes occur, as do travel expenses, but both of those are rather random in when they happen.

I do enjoy various occult-adjacent curios, though...