well ok, maybe not pity but if you feel a little sorry for me, i'll take that, too.

preface this whole rant with saying that there is some stuff going on that i won't talk about, not even here. chalk it up to my amazing abilities of denial but i just dont even want to write about it. it's stressful, that's all i'm gonna say. ever-present stress that i don't see clearing up anytime soon.

so, yeah, stressed am i. i is stressed. i guess maybe m. is too but not to the same extent. maybe he has even greater powers of denial, i don't know. finding out would require us to communicate on some level and well.. yeah. fuck it, right?

blah blah.. burnt myself tonight. poured boiling water all over my hand - not on purpose but what's the saying? there are no accidents? whatever. so. hand on fucking fire hence typing with only 5 non-blistered digits hence no punctuation requiring use of shift key. 2 tylenol 4's, one shot of vodka and a bowl of cold water to soak my hand in.

we were arguing. i wasn't paying attention, i guess. fuck. could have gone to hospital but the offer didn't seem sincere, you know [question mark]. so now i'm sitting here feeling crappy and sorry for myself half-stoned wishing it were a full out mind blitz wondering what the hell went wrong at the start.

damn.


soundtrack: sizzling flesh