"Be safe," the comoflauged man told me as he gave me a bear hug a few blocks from the bus stop we had just both gotten off. I shuffled down the sidewalk of Kenmore in a daze. I knew where I was going. I knew where I was. I looked at plates at the thrift shop and then walked back to the grocery store to meet up with my mom. I didn't feel like I was going to get to the home. When I saw her, I started to cry.
"I'm so sad," I told her as I continued to cry in confusion.
I feel so
For my recent gum surgery, they gave me some stuff. Nik says they're "opiates" and they've been messing with me. My mind is not my own and sometimes it swims in waterfalls and I say, "Come back! I have a point to make," but it likes those waterfalls so I do my best.
Sometimes I think I have it together. I thought I did the other night when I went to Ian's house. But today we met up for coffee and he told me I was pretty strung out.
Today I didn't take the meds, I think, I don't remember. But I don't think I did. I thought I could go out as it's been three days since they worked on my mouth and I should be better by now. An hour before leaving, two hours after getting up, I was ever so sleepy.
I figured getting out of the house would wake me up. It did not. After the mile to the bus stop, I passed out on the bus (not passed out, I dozed off). I felt like someone pulled the energy plug on my middle toe and things came out that would move me.
The world looks like it's a TV and I'm on a couch and then I move through it.
I try to blend in by looking at a book and finding words and eating part of Ian's 5 day old apple fritter.
Usually, it works out well and I am just like a Steven.
But I don't get it. Why am I so tired? Why is the world not where it is supposed to be?
I am going to make little books.
I am tired.
Little truck. Little truck.
I love Sarah so much. She is a very good friend. I love Christian too. Ian is my brother.