It is going to be a difficult week, ground down to starving my way through Monday. Blogger posted a caption about European Union cookie requirements which are beyond any consternation on my part. Why driving myself to force the city to arraign me is a solution for the depth of my pain resides in the hope it will spark something.
Miss Richardson has eased off her pressure tactics since I recertified in June, ripping out my fingernails in the process, but I've lost my civility at this point. It is drowning in my own bodily fluids, as I've begged my frigging family to help me leave for the last five years, and that is my family.
What my best instructors saw in me, and what I'm failing to carry. I just can't do this anymore, all my bad options like Cormac's pretty horses, rearing in fear.
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