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2:22 a.m. - 2004-12-21
Second chance: passed up.
Well, everything is actually falling apart.

I hope I never have to remember a dream again. Every time I remember a dream- I get high expectations that it may come true. The only one of my dreams that has come true was the kind of dream in which you're falling to your death and when you hit the ground, you don�t even get to fucking die, you just wake up.

I didn�t want to be here at all tonight. Anywhere but here. Sleep depravation hasn�t even kicked in yet. I will do anything to escape my reality right now. I hate what is real.

I love these people. I would never hurt these people. I am going to treat these people better. I am going to be better.

My body is actually dying. My saliva is so acidic that it turns chewing gum into a foamy goop. Milk curdles after seconds in my mouth. My muscles are deteriorating. My sleep patterns are completely messed up. My skin is a brutal mass of rash. Stomach pains and dizziness has become the norm. I am happy to lose 32 pounds, but my bones are built for a fat kid. My ribcage is disgustingly large. I feel sick. I am dependant.

Tonight I couldn�t just accept the fact that I was being left behind. I went to my curb for a smoke. My graffiti has been completely washed away. I wish I still had that fucking picture of my art. My tag. My blood. I knew exactly where it used to be and I sat there in that spot. I lit my cigarette and closed my eyes. Inhaling deeply. This time I could remember the Our Father. This time my face was dry. This time I had a proper tool. I kissed my curb. MY CURB. I got in my car and I drove home. I just wish I had a fucking picture of my tag.

I have to pack it away. I have to forget or pretend that I forget. I have to be the very best I can. I have to be nothing but a friend.

All I wanted was to feel a girls lip against mine before Christmas. I know it isn�t Christmas yet but I have lost all hope in myself.

<3

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