(no subject)
Well here I sit, 3 days later, my face the size of a fucking basketball. Reading and watching t.v. for enough consecutive hours to make me wish i were dead. I can't smile. Not a single person has called to chat or to come visit me. Although I should have expected that figuring my only real friend is in Paris for the summer. So I stay up all night writing letters to her even though I look far too hideous to go out and find a mailbox the next morning. My painkillers don't work like I would like them to and the thought that the only person I want to see and take care of me is probably going to forget who I am by the end of the night makes me wonder a little why I even decided to get out of my bed today.
fuck this.
fuck this.