Thursday, January 31, 2008

Killin it.

I didn't know what hate felt like, not hate that comes after love. It's huge and desperate and it longs to be proved wrong. And everyday it's proved right it grows a little more monstrous. If the love was passion, the hate would be obsession. A need to see the once-loved weak and cowed and beneath pity. Disgust is close and dignity is faw away. The hate is not only for the once-loved, it's for yourself too; how could you ever have loved this? - The Passion pg. 92

This consumed my night last night.

Along with the sickness. By friday I will be walking death. I'm sure.


Tonight, I will Eat sushi. Either in a resturant, or in my living room depending on weather, and will watch Lost. How good could this night get? Really?!

SIDE NOTE:
My short term memory... or lack there of... is really taking an affect on my life. It's scary.

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