[Private] The little details, it's the little details that make me wish I had poured some of that junk down my throat instead of down the sink. The way the corners of his mouth turn up, but his eyes just tell me to go away and mind the noose. The way I can't tell his hand is shaking until I look over his shoulder and see a furrow in the paper, ( Read more... )

Well, here I am dear diaring again, only it's not so much a diary as a news broadcast. I don't know what they thought the point was. I have been "pouring my thoughts out" lately, but only because it's therapeutic. I fully intend to make any further emotional posts private. I guess this might be good practice at writing, and there's not much else to ( Read more... )

Dad is... better, I guess. He wakes up mornings. He smiles a little. He tries to crack his old jokes. If I tell him his room is a mess, he cleans it ( Read more... )

God, it's been so mind-numbing I haven't even bothered to write about it. The journey was uneventful, I finished reading Dracula on the train. There was some disturbing resonance when I got home - Dad was asleep, the whole house seemed deserted, and all the doors are locked, against whom I don't know since I have keys and nobody else ventures into ( Read more... )

Bah, home. Home to watch dad mope. Great. Just wonderful. A summer of reading. And... reading. Now I think about it, not that different from here. Whatever. At leats I'm not likely to get ATTACKED back home.

[Private] Ballet again though - that I did miss. I wonder if it balances out all the fast-food and boredom. I hope I'm not too out of shape ( Read more... )