Just One More Time

Oh My Gosh, Is This Part 4? Yes. Yes, It Is.

Its been awhile. Phoebe is still a bitch. 

Here I lay down some journaling entries. What kind of journaling entries? Well... consider reading them, but as you do, imagine you're on fire. Imagine your entire body is engulfed and you can't get out. There is no escape because wherever you are is also on fire. 

Your stomach is absolutely knotted, like that necklace you got from your grandma in the third grade and you found it under your bed, so now its just a mess. you can't find where the beginning of the necklace is or where it ends and its so hard to figure it out and it makes you so angry inside. and you give up. You give up and let it be and it stays knotted and tied to itself. 

And also imagine that you have to shit really bad because hey- diarrhea happens to the best of us. No shame from me. 

So you're on fire, you don't have a stomach, and there is liquid spewing out of your ass. 

One more thing. you're in public, and nobody can know about this. What do you do? 

Choose your battles. Or whatever. 

You fucking hide. 

So without further adieu, I present to you: