i'm doing another bad thing and skipping school. i wish jess hadn't yelled at me. my brain is lesser than it was. i feel infantile, i can't comprehend past a certain point. this point comes about five times more than it did before the pcp. so yeah kids. i'm a statistic... again. brilliant. all i've got going for me is i'm a brilliant writer. and... ha. that's gone now too. fuck it all. strangely, this is one of my good days. although in the grand scale of things, it's shit. my girlparts are having serious problems, i've got a fucking std, i might have cancer, my brain got fried by what i thought was weed but was angel dusted, and i can't fucking think clearly, i'm supposed to be at school but i got a fucking headache for the 2738471293804731892th day in a row. nothing's making fucking sense to me. but, graded on a curve, my day is going well. because all those problems up there have been happening for the last few weeks. the headache, last few years. maybe i need glasses. i really wish all these problems would just go away. but i hate doctors, and what could they possibly do for me? good. jessica just called. i feel better. but still, i need to take my vitamins. and go to the doctors. i need help. someone help me.