I started this on Saturday night...
I haven't finished it yet. I think the demons have their hands over my mouth...The bastards hid my pens, too.

My plans are to go in and write phrases, comments and things people have said to me over the years that have embedded and leached themselves into my brain. Things that hurt. Things that sting. Things that don't want to leave me. My demons.

On an up note, I stayed up til almost 1 last night reading Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five. I think the worst part about reading a Vonnegut book now is the moment you realize there won't be any more books.

"Poo-tee-weet?"