07.31.02 - 11:37pm

my eyes appear labored as they strain to remain open. blood vessells have filled with a dull red. i stood up brian last night, choosing physical and emotional elation over sitting with brian, talking about nothing and discussing the travesties women have incurred into our lives. but the elation has left for salem and im left with a nagging feeling i should drive out to a crappy house miles down dark muddy grassy gravel roads and pretend to be enjoying myself as i sit in a self contained personality changing device, camoflauging my discomfort for chronic alcohol consumption and marijuana inhalation. conviently chewing my gum and stratigically laughing and smiling in sync with those that are not functioning as rational reflections of what humanity is. i took my first hit of weed in longer than i can remember. and i cant find a definition to elation.

i need to decide if my obligations of presentation are as important than being titled a flake.

whitney will know that my mom really brought it up.