Redundant.

How is it possible that my life is so absurdly redundant?
I decided today that I would write prison inmates. Possibly not the smartest thing I've ever done. But whatever. It would've been mostly platonic. I liked the idea of writing someone who might possibly be interested in responding to my letters.
I liked the idea of having a friend who was possibly misunderstood. And just really wanted someone to talk to. I could've been that person.
Anyway, my mom mentioned that she had looked in my room for a few things that she thought might be in here, and much like the time they found drug paraphernalia in my room, they found letters I had just written to inmates in various prisons..
Why does this always happen to me?
I mean, ok. I get that taking care of my safety is important.
But mother definitely got online and checked these people out. Their profiles too. Accusing me of just.. idk. Inappropriate behavior which was frustrating.
I don't like feeling like I'm mistrusted.
Or feel like I can't trust the people I live with.
I want a padlock on my door.