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2003-07-12 * 11:17 p.m.
Yo yo yo. It's Bitch Face

Well no one read this one so might as well bitch about the pain here.

At least right now I don't want to die. I took a vicodin and was about to take a few ibuprofen and realized I still had the valerian root Paul gave me for tea. Why don't I think of these things before I get to this state?

Valerian smells like bad feet but damn does it work on making your muscles loose.

I hurt I hurt. I'm in a fairly good mood for being in pain. This time it's all over muscle pain. It's the bad flu. Only without the flu.

I hate it. I fucking hate the goddamn fucking pain. And I don't have to like it. I hate it. I hate it. There's no "Well, at least...."

Fuck that. I hate it. And I can.

I own it. Oh yeah. I so own it.

Fucking pain. What did I do to bring this on myself? I'm trying to figure it out. I brought it on myself, I just fucking have to figure out how and what triggers it. Then if I figure that out, I'll be happy.

No I won't. I'm never happy. I wouldn't say I want more more more. I just keep thinking I'm never good enough unless I do do do. For others. I can live with that. I think. Today I wasn't scared. Because I don't value my life or because death doesn't scare me. One of the two. Maybe it's both. Maybe I'm not worth my life. Who the fuck cares. I'm talking crazy.

And I like talking crazy because it gets it out of my fucking head. And I can deal. I am so a writer. Or journaler. Without writing this shit out, I would go crazy. I have to get it out. I keep thinking that's what's making me sick but then I still let it out and my sickness still flares up.

Fibromyalgia. The "catch all". You're in intense pain and can hardly think of anything else, and it's the "catch all" phrase. At least with M.E. people seem to take that a little more seriously.

Tea is done. Of course with any bad freakin smell, all the fruit flies that weren't visible before come right to the tea.

Star light * Star bright