For The Masses
Previous - this entry written on January 15, 2006 at 1:26 am - Next
She still makes my thoughts flow faster, blood through a fresh-opened wound, every time I read. Makes me want to cry. Scream. Cum. Something, anything, it shocks me every damn time how much I find in that span of text to keep me drowning in images so beautiful ugly perfect horrible... and then even words fail and I just sit here, staring. Thinking.
So I was in the ER again last night - as in, about 24 hours ago now - after going 30+ hours without sleeping and getting more and new pains. Turns out I have bronchitis to go with the pneumonia, and a raging kidney infection that neither the antibiotic for my head or the one for my lungs had dealt with. I'm about ready to give up here, what else can my body throw at me? Oh, yeah. Right. Blood work. According to my blood tests, my body still thinks I'm pregnant. That is, it's still putting out a bit of the pregnancy hormone, which is why my moods are so strung-out wacky and why the hot flashes and cold flashes aren't going away. W. T. F.
I have uber-cough-medication-of-DOOM, even more pills, and a deep and abiding hatred for my body.
But that's obvious. I wish I had something useful and cheerful to update with. I wish I could get the scattered images in my head to condense into a story. I wish I could go BACK to sleep although when we got back from the E.R. at 8:30-ish in the morning Cal and I both went to bed and didn't get up until 11:00 pm tonight, yes, about 2.5 hours ago. I don't care. Let me sleep, let me rest, let me die. Apathy is easier than fighting this is becoming.
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