3 years.
1 year.
2 months.
20 weeks.
4 weeks.
1 week.

time.
space.
place.

timing.
distance.
proximity.


anyway, it doesn't matter. this is all a fucking game. a game show if you will. or a fucking sit-com. so laugh it up. its all fucking hilarious. its all pure irony so you can have your fun.

I'm so sick of thinking, and analyzing, and hurting, and trying.
I'm so sick of people.
I'm so sick of pretending.

FUCK.
I'm so angry.

And yet, I am trying to soften. I am trying to channel my anger where it belongs. I am trying to become stronger from all of this.
I am so weak.
(My hands heal so fast, that I can't build up calluses for climbing.)


Alicia. I was reading my old blog last night, and it was junior year so I pretty deeply depressed. Anyway, I wrote something along the lines of "I don't know how I am going to survive college without Caitlin or Alicia." That statement is so true right now. Without you, I'd be gone.