� I won't pretend � 2005-07-11 � 11:14 p.m. �
There are days where I hate myself so deeply that I don't want to get out of my bed and show my face.
There are some days (like today) that I don't even bother to pretend. I just stay in bed.
I might stay in bed tomorrow too... and the next and the next depending.
I don't care.
When my head pounds so hard that I can feel my brain scrape my skull... I can't think... I've lost strength in my left hand again... and who knows when that'll return. It's as if I have a small rat chewing at the strings of my marionette arms... and slowly he's chewing them through. It's useless... and sudden.
I decided tonight that I really hate my feet. And my biggest concern of marrying tropical isn't wearing my bikini but going barefoot on a beach. Ridiculous isn't it? It's not like I have control over them... They're so mangled from my broken body, from surgey, from struggling to get around... it's a wonder they work... why would I ever think they'd look ok?
I don't know. I just had hoped this last surgery would have made them look more like feet and less like monkey paws. I'm considering going back to have more tendons cut... more pins... more pain... more morphine... maybe more puking even. Yay!
Haste just isn't the right time to make such decisions. I'm really the only one cares afterall.... Aren't I?
All things bad must have a good... or at least a use...
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