The blessing of his life.

I sign contractual agreements I cannot fulfill. It is a classic behavior of mine: unreliability. I guess you could call me a flake. The secret that lives deep within my stomach lining tears at my heart. It makes me turn my eyes away from their questioning gaze. Everyone that cares for me needs to hear that I am okay. However, I'm running down the street, I'm smashing the window with my mind on the only one thing of value in that house to me. The only living reminder of my father's mother. It's something to keep me warm for the cold nights ahead.

Unreliable, but I would never punish them with the cold. Especially for something so small: something that you could hold in your hands, or wear on your body: something that could be returned or compensated for: something that hurt no one.

The glass will bite through the skin of my knuckles. I'll think of your face, your glasses knocked to the ground. How I prefer your dog. And that will hurt. You, yes physically, but mostly me for wasting my time, for being so weak, and for starting a fight with my anxiety that I'll always loose.

And I'm falling down over cold pavement and looking around but no ones there. I can see the bus back home, just not the home I'm supposed to go to.

Tonight:

It all changes.

Dogs/Mike Kinsella

I've always felt like Mike Kinsella was singing right to me. Whether I was succumbing to sleep on a purple train back to Lowell, or trying to warm my toes driving through the Appalachian Mountains. You're much more attached to things like that back here. The mountains, I mean. They're always on the horizon, right behind the "bojangles" sign. There isn't anything real beautiful here. If I wanted to live somewhere beautiful, I'd move to West Virginia...or I'd just crawl back home with my tail between my legs.

There are things to look forward to though. Paychecks seem to warm my heart even though I don't really own anything or buy anything that doesn't end up in either one of our stomachs eventually. I always liked cooking and buying food. I look forward to singing again too. I look forward to making new friends.

I just don't stop thinking about snowflakes and how, even though its bitter cold here, we can't seem to get a day that isn't sunny. Living without a cell phone has been the most liberating thing I've done since I moved from Lowell. I'd like to latch on to a mover or a shaker but I'm at a standstill at a busy intersection with nowhere to go but back.

I wish I could text my friends that I miss them...just so they could text me back that they miss me too. That is the most selfish thing I want.

Sometimes I am a Big Dog

I hate it when you open up a little to someone and they tell you how it could be better. I do know it, I swear. I don't have anyone here to pull me out of an anxiety attack (or the bathtub in this case). I don't trust the people I like.

I'm hungry.

This is all I remember about you.

Ride Shares

I thought maybe I'd try to do something useful with my time today so I finally brought my car to a garage. On my last day off, I thought I'd try a couple recipes I know that Luke would have wanted to make with me. They were too adventurous for Tim's dad though. I wish he would talk to me.

I hate this apartment. Its like putting flowers on Algernon's grave: looking around this room, at the mess, at the things that used to mean something to me. I hardly ever put on my old clothes anymore. I hardly touch the things in my closet. I'm thinking about selling my records for money to get back home. My futon folds in the middle.

Niacin.

This is what it means to be unhealthy. I hardly want to look at anyone else. I cannot even plaster on a reassuring smile for them. They look at me like they're worried. They thought they'd help me and set me free but I've done nothing to prove that any of it was worth the trouble. That two mile bike ride back from the auto mechanic's kicked my ass. I am cold...all the time, but especially at night because I only own three blankets.

There is one major difference between South Carolina and Massachusetts. Our state and local governments in Massachusetts have huge deficits, while people continue to live comfortably in culdesacs and two story homes. South Carolina's government can't figure out what do with the extra money, while their residents suffer in poverty. I don't get it....in a liberal state, we pay higher taxes, and support public programs that benefit the state as a whole. In South Carolina, the cost of living is kept low, government money goes into grounds keeping on state property, and city revitalization. How is the weight shifted like that? And why is it so freaking cold in this house?

I need a plane ticket at a busy time of year. I want to sit on the end of Nick's bed and listen to him play guitar. I'm a wrecking ball, and I leave a mess wherever I go.