i feel like wasted energy staring down mile long halls. distorted sighs leave me shaking. i am figuring out that its hard to breathe in here.
it's so cold. i'm leaving in twenty minutes. twenty minutes should happen now. my hands need his. james'. i sigh like it's my job. i'm wearing an old sweater. i've had it for years. i'll never get rid of it. it has many holes and on one sleeve the elastic is gone so it's pinned tighter. fifteen minutes. nothing to do. this kid is freaking out because his codes aren't working. he wears combat boots and looks at pictures of guns all day. i'll try not to piss him off. if he starts shooting people on hitler's birthday i'd rather not be on his bad side. i wish i didn't have to come back after lunch. maybe i wont. i should, though. i've already been home once today. combat boy is making angry noises. i'm getting nervous. i'm also getting cramps. my room needs to be cleaned again. tomorrow is thirteen months. he just punched himself in the head about four times and now used a binder to hit himself. i feel like crying. i hate other people. i hate everyone. i hate being in contact with anyone besides james. direct or indirect. it's all bad. it's just a fucking code. why are people so horrible? why can't i stand being near anyone? i'm completely disgusted. no one is saying anything to him. i want to disappear.
- posted by angela @ 2:20 PM