mimi
a letter:
you asked me to write, and here i am.
"take care" and you used my name... i don't know what to make of it.
it is a noble thing, to live with hiv. i can write a book, make millions, donate the proceeds to charities of my choosing...
i'm crying.
in theory, people with terminal diseases would live fuller lives than others, because they know exactly how precious it is, don't they? they have much more sway, their words carry much more weight, don't they? people are willing to listen to someone who is dying, and that's sick, but they do say that man are gifted with prophetic powers at the hour of thier death. if that is true, what will i see?
i'm crying. i hadn't faced this to anyone, yet.
amber says that everyone dies. jason says that if he ever contracted hiv, he'd kill himself immediately. how assanine... i'm angry. if i have hiv, i will have to shove it in people's faces. i'll have to let them see it, standing before them, not just a distant problem. hiv affects everyone. it's not going away.
a plague?
i've lost weight, i've lost my appetite, i've lost sleep, i just keep pushing myself harder. i have to do more, i have to be more, i have to fill up everything.
i've gotten pale...
perhaps it's just exhaustion, i say, but statistically, i should... if i escaped it, i'm lucky. perhaps i'm lucky. perhaps i'm lucky and exhausted.
i won't dwell any longer. it's cruel to you, my confessor, my outlet. if i scare you off, i'll have no one to trust and confide in. no one who knows. i want to tell amber, collapse in her lap. i find to find brandon, who raped me, and i want to tear him to shreds. i want to rip his pretty face. i want to clench my teeth and dig into his chest with my hands to pull out his stone heart. his name is brandon and that's all i know.
rape, i'm dwelling again... my stomach hurts, i'm dwelling again.
listening to loud, angry music. i'm crying. i need to dance under moonlite. i need to run and cleanse myself with my own sweat and blood. i need to bleed, in the desert, on the sand. i need to cleanse myself of these ill worries...
i find out on thursday.
falling
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