Do you ever just have those days? Where you're tired of it all. Tired of spending your rare weekend of freedom for everyone else. Don't get me wrong, I don't mind helping other people out. I like doing things for other people. I guess I just end up feeling kind of used, like what I want or what's important too me just isn't as important as anyone ( Read more... )

I'm done. I refuse to take pride in an institution where those above me go behind my back to have me removed, where those in any sort of leadership position strive only for their only personal interests, and those who are supposed to help me don't trust me. I just had a doctor accuse me of being sick because I didn't want to be here. If I didn't ( Read more... )

Even doing "everything" is not the same as doing it successfully. All we can require is serious efforts of specific sorts; we cannot require success. And the impossibility of success is necessarily an excuse - given serious effort, an entirely satisfactory excuse - for failure. To refuse to accept the excuse is to refuse to regard the defendant as ( Read more... )

I want to know why. Why me. Why, through all the uncomfortable, threatening stares. Why, after protecting me and keeping me safe, surrounded by those I called my friends. Why, choosing to give up something you'd saved your whole life to someone you barely knew. Why you put up wiht the drama and the vicious talk and the horrible, inappropriate, off- ( Read more... )

I knew this birthday seemed too good to be true. Are we so weak that something like this could shake us so much? He says "we should be in bed together" and now you can't trust me. Or you can't trust him. I haven't figured that out yet. Was I so wrong in being honest with you? He is my friend, he has been for years, and I feel comfortable talking to ( Read more... )

I'm prickly. I scare people off. Something in me is so afraid of being seen that it builds me up into an abrasively confident facade. I scare people away because I'm sharp and callous with them. I'm caught up in my insecurities. I look to the shallow and indifferent opinions of others for validation. And I know better. Maybe it's not so much ( Read more... )

So I spent most of last night in the Emergency Room...

Apparently whooping cough compounded by bronchitis makes you cough so violently for so long that you can't talk and your throat starts to close up and you can't breathe. I almost made my esophagus bleed it's so raw now. Hopefully this vicodin + inhaler combination will help.

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Silly Giuseppe. Of course you only ever read drama here. This is the drama filter. It catches all the nonsense. Nifty huh? Ya know you could always just try talking to me...

for believing me. for noticing. for staying. for stopping to see the real me. for shivering with me on the roof. for being my pillow in the green room. for being swirly. for laughing. for that catching twinkle that fills your eyes. for bewilderment. for not caring. for proving me wrong. for just being you ( Read more... )