December 23, 2006 :: 5:39 a.m.
This not being able to sleep properly at night reminds me of many many years ago. It scares me so.
It's like back before my time in school was finished, that difficult period towards the end when I'd go sleepless for weeks. I wrote so much back then, I was so open. I shared my journal and poems with my art teacher, I remember her asking me when I'd come in "Have you gotten any sleep yet? Have you written anything new?" after weekends.
I wonder if she was another of the ones who thought I was on drugs. Not that kniwing she did would have hurt me or anything. I'm used to it, that's what people always assumed for some reason, I never was.
I mis her a lot, I've tried looking her up a few times. She'd divorced and gone back to her maiden name last I knew, I wonder if she's remarried by now. Gods I wish I had her to talk to again now.
I find it kind of funny how back then people said I didnt act my age, I seemed so much older/mature/had an "old so" or something, more than they expected. And now here I am, just the same old little girl, and they say I don't act my age, meaning it the other way around.
stray kitten, abandoned
still lost here in
a box w/ razorblades
AKA DFW Texass