||[Feb. 9th, 2008|09:10 pm]
"All literary men are Red Sox fans." John Cheever
I was walking from my car across the parking lot. the colors sometimes shifted, making some things more noticeable than others.|
My heart, please, steady for me.
so I loaded and cocked it back. I pressed it against my temple and pulled the trigger again like i had done four times before. I was dizzy for a moment... curled on the ground and coughing. my heart did not stop for long. I pushed myself up, put my hands in my pockets to keep them warm, and kept walking.
I was thinking clearer all of a sudden.
there was something written on the back of my hand. it must have been there earlier, but I didn't notice it.
please stop what you're doing.
give me a call.
I'll give you directions home.
happiness, stop me before I hurt myself.
^OH MY GOD I'M CONTRIBUTING TO A DEAD COMMUNITY because I fucking hate the ultra-active ones where you don't know anyone. everyone get the fuck back here now.