Wednesday, November 26th, 2003 | 1:54
I'm pathetic enough to be sitting here, not killing myself.

Ok, nevermind. Forget everything I was ever going to say. It doesn't matter right now.
I've got a couple of options. I can say, "Yes, I think I can be in this relationship right now," or I can say, "No, I don't think I can be in this relationship right now."
Ultimatum at high noon. I hate westerns.
Those two options present me with a couple more. I've already driven way too fast and way too stupidly. I could cut up my left shoulder, or not. I could eat something or continue starving. I could stay up all night and act the tortured soul or sleep on it and not come up with anything by morning either.
It's your call because I make none of the decisions and I'm tired already.
This hit me like a truck hauling bricks. My spider-sense was tingling but I only looked up in time to see it splatter my face across the highway.
Why does everything have to be so fucking melodramatic? I'm going to look back on this and hate myself.
***Something stupid***
This would be, by far the smartest and dumbest reason for ending a great relationship. I mean, who the hell says, "Sorry, I'd like to love you, BUT I DON'T HAVE TIME!?!?!?!?"
I'm busy and concerned and completely asexual and this is a problem. Hey sis!
I haven't even said What The Fuck yet!
This is neither the time nor the place. I'd rather be anywhere else, feeling just about anything else.
I'm crying into your shoulder, begging for a motherfigure. Figures. Figured. A Katie, a Nat, an absentee ballot.
I was racing down St.Laurent at 150kph and the woman in the Audi TT cut me off, from left to right. I felt sick enough to hit her and drive off.
Everything I do is contrived.
She kissed me before she got out of the car. Her almost-sympathy (oh, is that what that was?) felt like a cinderblock or a full can of paint. Momentum's a bitch when your insides weigh next to nothing.
How does coincidence ends up as snychronicity? As you're leaving for sleep, Matt Good's Endsong asks you, "Do you feel like leaving?" You know and I know what he didn't mean but how it can be molded for my intensive purpose.
Being conscious just isn't worth the effort.

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