i spent the day in bed with a terrible headache. its funny, sometimes i like being sick, it gives me an excuse to do nothing. which i enjoy. i had another MRI yesterday. they are quite terrible. they're loud, and uncomfortable and vibrate and i dislike not being able to move my head/neck. in a way, i hope the results come back showing something devastating. i know that sounds extremely ungreatful, but perhaps it would serve as an explanation for my behaviour. it's not like i want to have some sort of disease ... but i might. it would be nice to die young. while i'm pretty and people still care.
i don't like arguments, or yelling or anger. i don't like to look at myself in the mirror anymore. i don't like what i see. if i had a gun in front of me right now, i would be dead. if i had a gun three years ago, i would be dead. if i walked upstairs to my beautiful bedroom, and saw a gun on my bed. i would be dead. ...and i want to be a detective, where you need 2-5 years of general duty policing. i doubt i would make it that long, with a gun inches away from my fingertips all the time.
but to see me on the street, with my nice clothes, pretty hair, fair skin and my smile, i don't think anybody would suspect who i really am. appearances can be so decieving. but, i would never dare leave my house not looking my best. i'm not sure why that is.
if you have a gun, be so kind as to send it to me? i promise i will only use it once, and the world would have one less selfish girl.
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