Truthfulness- I favor any skepsis to which I may reply: "Let us try it!" But I no longer wish to hear anything of all those things and questions that do not permit any experiment. This is the limit of my "truthfulness"; for there courage has lost it's right.

As of August 23, 2007.
210 Pounds. Inches: Arms; 16. Chest; 45. Waist, 39. Hips, 53. Thigh, 29.

A joke:

A man goes to the doctor. He says that he is extremely depressed, that life seems harsh and cruel. He says that he feels alone in a threatening world where what lies ahead is vague and uncertain. The doctor says; "Treatment is simple. Great clown Pagliacci is in town tonight. Go and see him. That ought to pick you up."

The man then bursts into tears.

He says. "But doctor...I am Pagliacci."

Last night was that beacon of calm nostalgia and hope that every person should turn to when they feel themselves falling into what can only be described as a depression. Not the clinical sort wherein there is some sort of rhyme or reason related to chemical imbalances, and whiny teenagers wanting validation. But the sort that manifests out of any number of pre existing emotions and causes one to fear leaving their bed, let alone house without someone holding their hand.

Though there were not stars, it was one of the clearest nights I've had in nearly a month and a half. Something about the water at two in the morning, an old friend, and tea can alleviate that though, and it is for all purposes; a miraculous equation.

I had forgotten about this damnable thing until Julie reminded me of it, and considering my livejournal has lost all favor with myself. I turn to this, as I seem to do at the unhappy start of every new school year.

Paint parties, are for friends.
Fumes, make everyone happy.
Aqua, is good to dance to.
Coram Diner, sucks.

I can’t look at the rocket launch
The trophy wives of the astronauts
And I won’t listen to their words
’cause I like
Birds
I don’t care for walkin’ downtown
Crazy auto-car gonna mow me down
Look at all the people like cows in a herd
Well, I like
Birds
If you’re small and on a search
I’ve got a feeder for you to perch on
I can’t stand in line at the store
The mean little people are such a bore
But it’s alright if you act like a turd
’cause I like
Birds
If you’re small and on a search
I’ve got a feeder for you to perch on
I’ve got a feeder for you to perch on
If you’re small and on a search
I’ve got a feeder for you to perch on.

You could shove a burning spiked dildo up my ass and it wouldn't compare to tonight. Getting my wisdom teeth removed was the most atrocious experience of my entire life.. I scared the nurses.Aside from the pain of them shoving me with the IVs twice on both hands since apparently my veins are fucked up, I apparently vomitted which I don't remember.. But..even worse is that I came off the anasthesia as he was working...So I started freaking out, screaming and crying hysterically. I felt him taking out the teeth and sewing me back up. I heard the heart monitor and it sounded like I was having a heart attack, all of them were freaking out. Two of the nurses actually were talking about needing to go out and get a drink because of me. I had a nervous breakdown because I do badly enough with just going to the hospital, it even too like 15 minutes of sweet air before they were able to start tapping me, he knew ahead of time...On the lighter note he did prescribe me Percoset, which he never does, but I am gung ho against Vicodin, and I think I scared him enough that he was able to make an exception.

The most annoying part is the pain, the lack of ability to eat, and the fact that he threw out my teeth when I wanted them.

Grr...I'm just hoping I don't end up bruised and squirrel faced.