I was walking thru the rain in my my open-toed 4.5 black platforms.
Then I find out:
I can't get my damn $300 deposit back for the apartment. WTF. Its my 300 dollars. I want it back. I'm not going to be living there, so why the f-ck should the landlord get to keep it? And they told me I need to find someone else to take my place. That won't work, everyone else has housing for next year set up. I can't believe I ever came back to this place. I should have spent last summer recovering, not making myself worse.
But whatever. I've got two weeks left, during which i AM going to get my money back somehow, and hopefully my 2.67 gpa doesn't drop lower. And i took medical leave from another class at the suggestion of my therapist. I don't know why i do this to myself.I'm such a masochist.
Ironically, there was a wellness fair going on today, but i didn't have the energy to drag myself to it. And they were going to have pet therapy. You know, petting puppies and such.
what the f. I now need to fall on one of my back-up plans because everything is going down the crapper and I can't breathe without gagging.







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Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive
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"A gently scritch-scratching on a paper in the dark, the thousands of incomplete thoughts and emotions swirling their way through the tips of fingers onto the paper which serves as the therapist tonight.." ~Aiaki
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"Don't take life so seriously. It's not like you're getting out alive." -Mike Dirnt
As a rapturous voice escapes, I will tremble a prayer
And I'll beg for forgiveness..
I appreciate it.
<3
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|strangers have the best candy|
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WEBSITE | ArtLimited | JpgMag | Prints & comissions.
How are you?
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Dying is an art. - Sylvia Plath
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