well. hell-o.
you might probably wanna know how I'm doing. I'm doing fine, surprisingly. been sick. caught a lite sneeze (oh ha ha yes nora) and a fever, I think I have stomach flu too (no I'm not pregnant in case you're wondering. promise.) and now developing a cough, hyperventilating from time to time. went to the doctor. note this: not worth it. I'm really not comfortable with hospitals--the smell, the fact that there are sick and dying people in them which make me feel like I'm in some sort of crappy horror movie that still scares the shit outta me, and have I mentioned the smell? and they gave me crappy pills. I mean, four different pills, three times a day, I don't have a fever anymore but I can't feel my legs or ass, still can't sleep, and if I do, I have nightmares.
I kept thinking about that line from white oleander. "from demerol to percodan". maybe those are better. like that batch of underrated margarita. pije thought it wasn't funny cos it made her drunk.
hey guess what. I'm writing this and superman is on. the one where they have a scene in martin's place. superman. reminds me of super random things. or not-so-random things. like superhero jokes. or the time (it's 2:21 am). thought I'd made friends with time thought we'd be flying. making fists when flying. look at my left palm. shame, it writes. shooting up right through my hand.
sorry for singing all the time.
I hope you're reading.
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