Woke up at 14.30. Used some time to open my eyes, in the end I needed to drag them apart. I was listening for a sound, any sound. I got up and went to the bathroom. Washed my face, my eyes were burning. When I went into the sittingroom, the gang came home and filled the appartment with life.
My body is full of writing, most of it I cant make out. But I can see on my left arm it says: If you cant find the hash, you can always get some chips instead. On my right arm it says: Woke up with a guy, he was dead, I guess I have to buy more batteries.
Im scared. I feel hurt, but I shouldnt, I have no right to. Im tired of this. Tired of hiding. Tired of smiling. It takes so much out of me to pretend.
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