It's 1:35 a.m. on a perfectly eventful Saturday night, yet I am at home, a heap of flesh just piled onto these sheets. I can't help but feel like a lonely kid again, left out and made fun of. It's a little bit sad that I keep finding myself uninvited all the time. But I really shouldn't complain about that. Had I gone, it would just be so sour... I think I'm sick again, too. Feels like a creeping fever, maybe. I had intended on leaving the comforts of my home for the day, to avoid the tension between my mother and sister, and I (I won't go into that because it was very abrasive and is still very fresh). However, my failing well-being took a toll on me, and so my body decided to clock out early. I would not be able to bum around in my car with nothing but a few water bottles, a half-eaten sandwich, my sketchbook, and my guitar, like I had planned. I came home at 10, and collapsed on the floor, barely missing my bed. Since then, I literally have felt like shit. I'm confined under these blankets, I cannot walk, let alone even turn my body without feeling like I'm about to throw up. I'm starving, but there's no food here. Lonely, but there's no one to keep me company. My bottle of water is just about empty. I take turns between sobbing hysterically and trying to fall asleep, but my mind won't let me have either of the two. What a wonderful way to spend my last weekend before school resumes. I can say now that I learned my lesson, and will never chain smoke within minutes after waking up, on an empty stomach.
mkp.
