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2004-03-11 - 2:38 p.m. i've been so fucking angry lately, even for me. it brings to mind my favorite line from my favorite david wojnarowicz piece: " every day i wake up in this killing machine called america and i'm carrying this rage around like a blood-filled egg". not that i'm really thinking about america right now, i'm too intent on my own fucked-up life. actually, right now my life is not exceptionally fucked up--i am living somewhere safe, well-fed for the first time since age 13, in love, in school, not working retail, etc. but the problem with being in a "good" place in life is that you really have the time & space to feel all the things you couldn't when your life was totally scary. now i have the time to really process and feel the rage of everything shitty that's ever happened to me, from the man who stood on my porch and screamed into my living room window that he was going to break in and rape me, to the time i was driving with a certain person and she almost left me by the side of the road because i rolled my eyes at something she said, to the times i've tried to talk to people about something important and they told me i was lying, to everything i can't say here. and i walk around with a cigarette in my left hand and a fist in my right and the weight of everything inside my whole body and i just don't know what to do with all of this. i've been pondering going back into therapy. i doubt this school has a great counseling program, but it's what's available to me right now and i'm sure it'll be better than nothing. right? right? when you sniff my armpits, you can really smell how much coffee i drink. i smell like old coffee grounds and i need to punch something or maybe scream until my heart breaks. i only drink about 2 cups a day, but i take it seriously.
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