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   Wednesday night's spaz attack was brought me by the hormone estrogen. (And by imminent inclement weather and too much vodka and without enough dinner.) I fell asleep crying, dozed for four or five hours, woke up and started again, still drunk and half-wondering why my wrists hurt so much. I didn't wash them. I called Sam, because no one else ( Read more... )

   My eyes are so swollen from crying that I can hardly see. Because I realize that my options are as follows: change or die. Where's my beloved Sam when I need him and no one else?

   That last entry was a real downer, huh? Hah! Behold the power of the almighty mood swing. This is not to imply that life doesn't suck. I've just resigned myself to the ultimate palliative: not giving a fuck. And what's better is that I don't give a fuck about not giving a fuck. I'll take incompletes. I may spend the break wishing I hadn't. But ( Read more... )

   Wait, I take it back. Don't wake me when I'm dead. We're not Catholic, and we just don't do that. I for one find the practice extravagant and unnatural. So don't wake me when I'm dead. Wake me up when I'm dead.
   It's one of those days. I don't want to move, don't want to do anything. My head feels heavy above these shoulders, like a bowling ( Read more... )

There is a God.
I had so much fun last night, it shouldn't be legal. Freshman fucking rock. Especially when they want to annihilate a the same college administrator I do. And when they laugh with me as I make fun of females. And when they do things I'm not drunk enough to disclose to the world. But the sun is coming up and I'm still drunk enough to ( Read more... )

I almost died last night. In my dream, anyhow. I slept from 1 AM to 4 PM (after spending most of Sunday in bed), and hit the sheets only to imagine myself at the perverse whims of a psycho serial killer. Apparently, he had attacked once earlier, killing a girl I was friends with in grade school, as well as... a soccer jock who is much less of a ( Read more... )

   Do you ever miss words? Or is this just another way I'm weird? Okay. There are certain words I used to love, cherish, and overuse for an extended period of time (examples: countervail, dampen, imbroglio, cacophony, and simpler ones, like thrust, contrast, wane. And wane's counterpart, dwindle). They drop out of my vocabulary like students from a ( Read more... )

   I don't know if I just made art or a mess. I don't know if it's a self-portrait or a mistake. The semester is winding down, and it's impossible to distinguish the relationship between self-expression and procrastination. The collage is bloody and colorful and celestial, and as absurd as it is sad. Tomorrow, I may stare the thing in the face and ( Read more... )

   I just started a Facebook group called "My Dad is Dead." Because he is. He most certainly is.
   These things come back sometimes. The world teems with triggers and provocations. Like conversations with people who want me dead (the list is shorter than you might think), and how they alert me to my indiscretions. Has my mind grown too cloudy to ( Read more... )