{acidophilus.}

pulling my glasses off to rub my eyes in frustration. i remember i put makeup on today. i don't know why. i just feel like it sometimes. like painting my face. the notion is so strange to me that i enjoy it. and often wonder who's idea it was to add colour to particular places.

how many times have i walked down that hill and taken my clothes off in sub zero weather. calling out to no one and crying to myself i'm asking for help. not to anyone in particular. and had someone walked past and offered to lend a hand or call the police, i would probably freak out and start running. apologizing profusely as i sped off. the whiskey has found me again. and on my walk home, listening to music that i know pleases, i wrote your name in the untouched snow with my shuffling feet. i stepped back to admire my handiwork. later down the street i spelled an abbreviation of my own name. which also pleased me. and the entire way back i drew curly-ques in at least fifteen stranger's front yards. it was delightful. but now i'm home, and have recently eaten another tuna melt and some acidophilus. which is good for your intestines. i've been perpetually nauseated. which makes me think i am terminally ill. and have been attempting to take my thoughts captive a bit better. sometimes when i go to sleep i dream about how i might kill myself, and how beautiful it would be, aesthetically speaking. or i think of the day i'll end up in the state home, and wonder who will visit me. i don't know why i dwell on such things. but i do believe these thoughts depress me, so i'm trying to avoid them. i'm going to take a bath now. as this is part of my pre-sleep routine. tomorrow i'll wake and forget that i drank the night before. but will remember that a handsome man referred to me as "cool." and i don't see why i should care. just leave me alone.