Another?

16 May –

That is not the worst thing. You should see what fell off of me yesterday. Gross. I would have posted a picture of it but I could not stand to look at it long enough to snap the pic.

My birthdays keep getting worse. Seems like last year I got stuff from all over the world. This year, I only had a few messages and one girl sent me something that she made in school (thanks Debbi…but what exactly is it?).

17 May –

If this rain keeps up I don’t think I will ever be able to go outside again without plastic bags all over me. What a pain.

Its good for the greenery, though. Looks very lush outside my window; if I squint I can pretend that I am in a rain forest. But, of course, squinting hurts now.

18 May –

I guess I met the girl that I am going to marry. Did not like her much. Though I doubt she was too impressed by me, either. She was cool enough not to mention the smell (or the other thing), and she was kinda cute, but we did not exactly hit it off.

I am being driven to the hospital later today. Probably no big deal, though I am staying at least overnight. If you do not hear from me again for a few days, you will know why.

Petey from Beirut: I do not know when my hair will grow back. Keep your fingers crossed.

9 March –

Thanks for all the interest. I am feeling better. Oh, and to Cliff from Brighton: Yes, it is a mole. Please stop asking about it.

I was a little unsteady on my first day with the new stuff, but Nurse assured me that I will be “back to normal in no time”. Sure. Let’s see you try to get around town with this thing. I dream of killing you with a linoleum knife.

What am I writing? Pay it no mind. The pharmacist has been having fun with my prescriptions again, I think. It all started when the doctors decided that I could start to come of the heavier stuff. Ever since then, the pain has been manageable but constant, and I have had the peculiar smell of daffodils waft past me every once in a while, though no flowers could possibly be blooming at this time of year.

10 March –

Right this very second I am writing in complete darkness. I woke up shivering in the middle of the night…the clock in the corner of my screen says 3:15am but I know that is not right. I never reset it from daylight savings time. I just figured that it would be fixed when it came around again.

I could hear the brittle dried-skin leaves scratching like unkempt old fingernails across the charred and broken concrete outside. A faint noise of rusty metal scraping against moldy stone echoed through the inky darkness. All of a sudden,