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Goo gone
2005-09-29 @ 11:26 p.m.

My mind is fuzzy, and I am quite messed up. I should be kept under lock and key. Tomorrow I have a doctor's appt. I want off of these Goddamned medications. I don't even really know where I start and stop anymore.

And it's not as though I am super depressed; or I'm in denial.... I just think about death so much. I find it strange that I'm this thing that takes in everything with her senses and spits out some data for others to decipher. Once I am dead, will I care about the loss of this gift? What happens when I die? Will I forever know that I can never have a body left, and my molecules will quickly spread out so thin that I'm gone. I just cannot stomach myself anymore. Why am I alive? Why did my mother and dad fuck and create all of us? Now, my mom is depressed again since Northwest Airlines merged some other fucking airline. Fuck them. Really, FUCK. You fucking bastards don't even know how hard she worked; she loved working for that fucking company everyday. She was proud and always advertised how great they were. Well, fuck them. I am wishing for things that I cannot write here. Believe me; they are nasty thought.

I'm over at Matt's house wearing his red Cobalt Boat hat. The hat makes me feel like it's okay to be typing in my diary. The guy who cleaned up all the shit in both houses just left. Now, that was some stinky shit. I'm buying Joe all new towels because they used all his mopping up the shit. Fuck.

I need help. I don't know for what or why or who can even do it. I need a plumber to come and get all the shit unclogged out of my life and mind.

I wish I can leave with a really happy tone. It's not necessarily terrible--it's just a confusing life these passed months. Maybe I can discuss this with Dr. A.



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