sometime you just need tears.


looking through old old entries, two years past, and stumbling upon death is always a fucking slap.

The drug talk was pretty good. Turns out, the high from Oxycontin? It’s like being held. like being safe an warm and peaceful. And all I can do is tear up, because there are people dying for an artificial hug, for a false sense of security and safety. That’s the way it makes you feel, crushed up so the sixeight hour narcotic is instant, according to lecture man.

Today is kind of sad and frustrating and crappy. I slept through forty minutes of class. I am terrible at reading German, shit terrible. The subject in the class I slept in, the latter forty minutes, involved a discussion of the victimization of the abused, specifically sexual abuse and women, girls. Hah. I knew this four year old once. She trusted. They told her it had to be her fault. She grew up and she still cries to think about how many fucking others this has happened to.

But. Shit days make amazing days that much more awesome. with any luck.


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