She was outta that town - 05.22.03 - 1:40 am
Look!

I have a severe coffee buzz and I can't stop sneezing. I fear my brain is going to implode.

Tonight was weird. I kept seeing people that I know/once knew and if I have to pretend that I'm interested in progressive potty training ONE MORE TIME, then fuck it. I'm shoving pencils in my fucking ears. Hard.

And since there is some weird force working it right now and I must not ever forget that my friend is dead, even if just for a moment, I got to have The Conversation with some chick I haven't spoken to in, like, six years.

She brings up a classmate who recently died. Said how sad it made her. I go, yeah, it was sad.

And then she mentions K. Says how upset she was and how "awful" she felt. Goes on to talk about how she feels like she "could have done something" and "where were his friends?"

I don't think she even fucking knew him. She didn't even know he was dead until a year after the fact. Come to think of it, I don't think she even knew I knew him.

I didn't say anything.

But I kept thinking, "Why am I still having this conversation two and a half years later?" Really now. I was expecting that shit right after he killed himself, which is partly why I maintained a constant drunken state for fourteen days. Except it was friends-of-his-friends who got to hear that shit.

Whatever. I can't be eloquent tonight. I don't know what the fuck I am talking about.

I think this anger stems from guilt, though.

Oh, god. Where did this come from?

Hey, good thing I'm leaving for New York in a few hours, right? Right?

Oh, yeah. So I'm leaving for the airport in a little over two hours. Rock and roll, baby. I'm going to try to do everything I have to do before I leave in thirty, no, TWENTY minutes. Yeah. Ulcers are pretty damn sexy when you think about it. All painful and shit.

What the fuck am I talking about?

Anyhoo, fuck being sad. I'm going to go paint my nails and pretend that not talking to Jerkface the night before I leave the state DOES NOT bother me. Cuz why should it? Seriously.

See you Sunday, darling.

And I'm off.

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