the wind is blowing outside.

22 february 1999

i'm getting sick.

i knew that before you did. there's this feeling i've gotten. that i give a fuck. i don't know why i do, but i do. like with superman. like i'm needed. i didn't think that feeling was really all that important to me. but i guess it is.

i was thinking about how nina goes home every weekend to be with her family. she thinks they still need her around, which they do, & so she goes home. good plan, i guess, but she misses out on the fun & oh so exciting weekends here. but she's needed. & that's a good feeling.

i'm starting to wonder if i need not be a bitch anymore. or let people think i'm a bitch. i think i'll always be a bitch, because i love it. & it's not a bad thing. let's go. the mysterious boy emailed me today.. acted like he wanted to say something about what was going on in his life. mm. i'm wondering. do i listen well? sometimes i think i just hear.

can we get clean again?

sigh. i am now the proud owner of a shotglass that says "does a body good." i'll give it to one of justin's friends. maybe they'll get it after a while. "dude. trippy. ::swig::"

step over me in the morning. i love you in the morning. i know i can't keep you here, even if i tried. step over me. release your madness. ease your happiness. can't stop what's coming. it's all alone, written on the wall, in your eyes. the light the heat. my hands have healed nicely. why do i have a black eye? how did i do that this time? why is my roommate such a bitch? do i need to keep it all together at one time? step over me. i've never been so gone that i've thrown up.

dishes.

aqua lube.