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a long trip The drugs made me sweat. I woke up soaked, with arms wrapped around me, in someone else's bed. I had no idea what day it was, let alone the time, but it was daylight. Clouds were suffocating the atmosphere again. I'm sick of grey light, I wish it would just fucking rain already. My pulse felt like the clacking of old typewriter keys. I was feeling so much at once I was bored. My body felt like a ten car pile up where paramedics needed the jaws of life to save an infant from the death trap of the passenger seat, melting in flames next to her dead father; and it was anybody's guess if the car would explode and make heroes out of the ambulence workers, who might get highways named after them, in some ill contrived, vain attempt to memorialize their contribution to society, or lack thereof. Another day. And what's this one going to bring? And does it matter? I just hope I have a savior, because I don't think I can save myself. ----- - - 6:32 p.m. , January 29, 2005 personal empowerment - 9:48 p.m. , January 12, 2005 jaksdf - 7:22 p.m. , December 19, 2004 the break up - 11:08 p.m. , December 16, 2004 fists of rage - 6:28 p.m. , December 13, 2004 |