Say my life were a house, then it would be contantly under renovation, and you would see me working inside trying to make it all work. As soon as I finish whatever I was trying to accomplish, I would want something else and have to start all over again. Sometimes when I am frustrated I feel like being in a big white room with a garbage can full of hollow glass balls that are half filled with paint. Different colored paint in each, then I would throw them all around at the white walls, and color would splash everywhere and the glass would cut me but thats okay cuz my liquid red blood matches the splattered paint and it ends up working itself out.
