Sharp metal Monday, Dec. 27, 2004 I sure miss Chelsea. My scab itches. I can't wait to return home which I will do in about 6 hours. I have so much cool stuff, and I wonder how much of it I can cram in the car. Once I pay my sister back and get on track with my credit card, I hope to buy the red/cranberry Volvo for $1. I'll drive it around to practice and then get a license. It'll be right in time to use the sun roof when it starts to get warm again. I finished reading the Basquiat book, and I have pages and pages of thoughts on that, but I'll hold off until later for that. It was kind of a boring book. Last night, I was so mad I couldn't get a ride home to Athens, I punched my head really hard. Afterwards, I thought that was kind of stupid, because it really hurt, but that's how frustrated I was. I didn't know how I was going to get through the night being here, but then I set up my VCR and headphones and watched a beatnik documentary I taped off PBS long ago. I watched enough videos to get sleepy and go to bed. I was in that periodic extreme mood where I feel so great at first and then I feel so worthless second. And then I go to bed. I walked by the railroad tracks here some more early this morning and found a sharp piece of metal. If I had to defend myself, I could poke out someone's eye I thought. Gross. Norcross is not that bad except for the prison of my family. It has nice moments. |
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