witty-remark's Diaryland Diary

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My head is pounding. Each key I try to strike slips from beneath my fingers.

We tried to catch guppies and then I suggested we drink instead. So we did.
All day.
I nearly pissed myself in the forest.

I wish these bruises and torn stockings were buttons I could press to playback how they accumulated.

1:14 a.m. - Friday, Sept. 04, 2009