your mama's so fat, her ass contains multitudes
the title doesn't have anything to do with anything: i just couldn't resist. my condolences if it's actually true. i've finished off my bottle of chartreuse & poured the last few drops into one of my bottles of perfume oil (a pink pepper scent from 'the body shop') where it adds a nice bitter smell. i'm typing this standing because there's someone else's blood (i think it's menstrual blood...) on the chair & i'm having trouble breathing because it's so hot & humid; it's long since past the point where sleeping naked is an affectation & not a necessity.
this room smells like shit & old oil.
i'm gonna be seeing a shrink tomorrow -- to maybe figure out why i can't concentrate on any one thing long enough to finish it properly. the only other time i talked to a shrink was several years ago when my french teacher saw me reading a book on suicide... the next day there was a summons to the guidance office ,whereupon i spent an hour convincing the resident therapist that no, i wasn't suicidal, & no, i wasn't homicidal either. i guess i'm still not: it's too much trouble.
this room smells like shit & old oil.
i'm gonna be seeing a shrink tomorrow -- to maybe figure out why i can't concentrate on any one thing long enough to finish it properly. the only other time i talked to a shrink was several years ago when my french teacher saw me reading a book on suicide... the next day there was a summons to the guidance office ,whereupon i spent an hour convincing the resident therapist that no, i wasn't suicidal, & no, i wasn't homicidal either. i guess i'm still not: it's too much trouble.
posted by malachi trizec @ 3:56 p.m.
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