What Can Say!

I slept through a large part of the day after we got home from tennis. Nick wouldn’t understand what I’m doing right now. He’d be, think of the viewers, they haven’t caught up yet. Fuck you, man, I have got things to say I’m saying them. Fuck off.

Brother middle at the park and vocally on the tennis court, not during tennis but in between on breaks was very… asshole. He was very asshole. Hard to pin down. The kind of asshole that vehemently denies it’s an asshole but obviously is an asshole. Oh well. He’d rather I lose my sanity than own up. Too bad.

But I think he must’ve been, young, and, concerned with living life to its fullest, and didn’t have time for my… wisdom. Or, age, or, knowledge, or experience.

Yeah. He’s a young prick alright.

What else…

I had mostly nightmares during these naps today.

Mom goes to work soon. I had Chipotle burritos to survive calorically for the day. For post-tennis I mean.

Mom goes to work. I get to say hi to her. I wonder. I can sense my symptoms flaring up. Twitch wants to psychically harass me means my symptoms are acting flaring up. Sigh. It’s a rough life.

People and their hypocrisy! *shrugs*

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