The Big Blow Up
<< 12:40 a.m. - Saturday, Oct. 04, 2003 >>
What day is this? Where is the happiness we were all so sure we possesed this summer? I feel as if a part of me is dead. I feel so goddamn broken. Unready to face conflict. Scared, I am always scared now. I walk home and can only think of the words I will recieve at home. So drained of emotion, so tired of my exile from eveything that keeps me from feeling whole.

I don't think I can go back home. I don't think I know how to repair what has been so grossly broken and suddenly so near death. I got in the car and said nothing and so she was angry. I signed the forms at the Orthopedist and sat in a chair and watched as she sat across the room. We waited for forty five minutes and she is angry again. When I leave, and tell her we can go, she is angry that they did not inform her. And so I wait. And she tells me to find my own way home. I take the keys and get my cell, this is a joke perhaps and I'll play along. But I go the the bathroom and come to find that she drove away. A dent in the tar where the vehicle once remained. And I am left to walk home from 21st and Northrup.

Fuck her. Luck is old milk to me.

I go to Mt. Tabor and can enjoy nothing. Can say nothing. Because her face swimming in my head. Voice screaming, and I crumple. Words do tear. I am left as rubbish, ash, from what was once a girl assured.

Home again, falsy cheery. And oh, there is something we need to tell you. A pile of literal dog shit on my desk. My dad has placed this for me to discover. And this is because I called Jenny in the morning and neglected the ever silent and waiting Kasha. I'm sorry I am so bad in your eyes. That you believe I don't love you and I don't care. And now, I can say with temporary honesty that I feel no ounce of warmth toward you at all. I only wish I couldn't care.

Taking the phone outside, and I glance behind me to hear the clicks of a locked door. Exiled from my own house. What else can I do but ask for someone to rescue me?

And they have.