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******** titles.
Subscribe to me because I'm vain.
I never thought I was very good with emotions.
I believed I could fake them very well though.
I assume I always have done a great job.
I would say I have fallen in love three times now.
However this most recent time tops all before it.
I'm going to go ahead and say the first two were nothing.
Mostly because I can't really remember how I felt for the first two anymore.
I've stayed up for about three days now.
I haven't had any alcohol in about four days now.
I overuse painkillers now, but it's probably worse for my liver than the alcohol.
The painkillers however provide a much better result.
They calm me down, and I get numb.
It's the same as alcohol only I'm not drunk and can still operate in public.
I apparently supposed to go to chemotherapy on Monday.
From what I've been told it's going to feel like my bones are being shattered.
I will feel sick after and I'm not supposed to move too much.
I will cry a bunch.
Not be able to digest food.
I'm going to be an outpatient so I will be allowed to come home afterword.
I'd like it better if I stayed in so I could hang with David more.
I want to beat him in chess at least once.
He's this really cool old guy.
I would love to be just like him when I get old.
He tells me all about the s**t he did as a kid.
He has spinal cancer of some sort.
He was arrested for murder, he hasn't told me why.
His buddy who's name I can't remember has a wife who makes bakes pot stuff.
It always tastes amazing and makes me wish I could bake stuff.
I'm slaking on making appointments to West Valley and this other place.
I'm really hoping on having a heart attack or something.
Life is just getting really boring.
I'm kind of looking forward to the therapy because it'll be new.
I probably wont put this in my diary either.
I'm just too lazy to write it there.
This is a ******** Gaia exclusive.
Not that it really matters I guess.
This whole diary idea was to analyze my thought patterns.
I don't see much that needs changing.
I'm not the licensed therapist though so what do I ******** know.
I need to be licensed to know who I am in this world.
I need money to live comfortably and have friends.
I need a home to be lonely in.
I need jackets to hide my insecurities.
Most importantly I need painkillers so I don't remember this.
I finally remembered what I didn't want to remember.
Now I know why I didn't want to remember it.
I wont say it in hopes I don't remember again soon.
I've been doing this for forty minutes now.
Maybe I should go to school tomorrow.
I doubt it would be any fun.
I'm glad to be out of that place anyway.
I'm getting a PICC line.
I forgot what it stood for.
I wanted to pick the oral tablets.
That way I could just do it at home.
My mom didn't trust me.
If I miss taking it at the exact time it could kill me.
She was right not to trust me though.
That would have been an interesting way to go.
My heart hurts.
Pop a painkiller.
My eyes hurt.
Pop a painkiller.
I'm remembering something I don't want to.
Pop a painkiller.
I'm trying to sleep but it's not working.
Pop a painkiller.
My spelling is getting worse.
My arms are like noodles.
My body's reactions are slowing, and my brain is idlk bad.
I';ve been sitting here for about an hour now.
This is your brain on drugs and sadly itr's worth it these day s.





 
 
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