so i've been having these wierd flashbacks.

i think it's the lack of meds. i'm not sure that it's okay to be medicated for so much of your formative years and then just stop

stop stop stop stop

but the days are becoming a little more busy in my head and most of my life right now is work.. but isn't that what i want- wanted...

yeah, it is. I know it is.

so my mind feels this sense of familar coming back to it-- like paint covering chips and scartches that you paint on quickly with a brush too big for the job at hand...

i work and i work and i work

i have a lover--

he called me that when i asked him what we were

and driving in the passanger side of a car today i took in the word lover came to terms with it and finally saw it for what it was

besides dangerous

i don't know what to do with my life.. the holes that form

i just keep painting over them

never sorting out if i should just buy some new wood and make a new fence or just keep repairing the old one...

i move to california, shed 50 pounds keep my hair brownish blond and walk everywhere

i am her now

she is me

and i am still sick in the head

maddened

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