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08.09.03

This entry is for me.

It's Saturday again.

(Saturday morning to be exact.)

I came here for a reason, but it escapes me now. I love writing here - for me it's like catharsis. I am not always funny or witty or profound or happy or sarcastic or drunk or fucked up or gentle. I am not always humble. I am not usually kind.

I am always the same though.

And for anyone who gets thier feelings hurt by what I write here: Fuck you. It's not my intention, you know.

Sometimes I dramatize, paint a picture, or whatever.

It's a routine. I don't know if I can be here anymore - from what I started out to do, to what I have become. This diary is part of that. Why I can't move on from this cycle.

I have a routine that is comfortable.

Aside: (not for you)

Awake at dawn, turn on the coffee, shower, sit zombie-like in front of the morning news, dry my hair, dress, work. Half-hour lunch break, off at 4, home and back on this computer. Cook (sometimes), Judge Mathis, read, sleep. Insert pharmacuetical drugs anywhere in this routine. Insert alchohol. Insert starving. Insert BF. Blah, blah, blah.

Bo is on his way over & I haven't seen him in months. Not since I visited him in rehab (where he still lives) in January.

I am already medicated & sipping coffee. (NOTE TO SELF: I have a rant about non-smokers.) Playing on fotolog & photoshop.

Wondering if this is it.

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