There aren't enough drugs to make me feel better.

Why I don't have a dog.


Put your pointer on my chin.

Working. Old work. New work. Somehow pulling myself back together. Probably the realization that I need money. Last night I seemed to be living in an anxiety attack state. I felt like I should be going out and being social or something. Instead, I went to Blockbuster. And then Pavilion's, where I resisted (reconsidered, without the tattoo) buying a bottle of wine. Anyway. Back to work. A friend asked me yesterday if I were in therapy. Welcome to it.

Some really scary punk kids who were afraid of my pink and green camera. Oooooo,

big picture | sob

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