|Add Memory | Add To Friends|
|RagDoll (profile) wrote, |
on 12-14-2002 at 12:59am
|Current mood: exhausted
Music: Storm; Vanessa Mae
Subject: It doesn't let up.
|The alcohol, the pot, the mess. It just never lets up. People with criminal intent hopping the fence when I send them away, countless kids destroying themselves. It's madness.
S is sick. Because of her massive pile, and because of her illness, I'm taking up a dialouge writing class. Turning an overheard dialouge about fake ID's into a conspiracy story should be fun. S also handed me a bounced check from one of my friends for an event. This is also tiring. I hate being the sledghammer for my friends. It drives me nuts. But here I am.
I'm still torn up about some issues involving love. How is it that I'm the 'safe' one to love? What draws them to me, when I can't return anything? For the people I'm solidly connected to, why do I find the ones that specialize in holding love back?
I just want to sleep. Real sleep. Preferrably the 12 hour kind. I'm tired of the smell of alcohol and pot and urine. The smell of Chicago's future.