Site hosted by Build your free website today!

August 2, 1999

Ive been close to death a few times. Once he had his hands around my neck, squeezing until everything went black. Drug overdose a few times. Why do I get so close only to be pulled back into the world of the living? So do I want to die? Yeah I suppose I do. I want to see what its like. My morbid curiosity may get the best of me.

Sometimes Im so happy hyper. Other days the depression makes me feel like my heart is in my stomach. I cant move. Everything seems wrong. The noise, the light it all hurts me. I want to be one of those perky people. No, wait I dont theyre too annoying like little gnats buzzing in your ears. I want someone to take care of me, but I want to be alone. I want to walk in the sun but its too bright.

I pour all of the pretty pills out of their bottles and into my hands. Theyll take care of me.


Back to Meg's journal index
Back to Psycho Much