slept for a long long lng lomg time today

yesterday i sold some cds and some crazy people handed me seventeen and fifteen dollars. that is thirty two. i am rich. no, just i can drive to ashville . bill and i are goin on friday morning. if brently can get off work, we'll leave saturday morning. i hope he can go. i'm stupid. i don't know words but i hope he can go.

whenever i try to draw people anymore, they always turn out in twisted, ugly lines. they look more real. but ,. ugly. they used to be smooth, almost cartoon, but always curvy and dreamy. no more.

brently's people are perfect. not too much of this. not too little of that.

ugh. i hate this. i am stupid . i feel like conrad jarrett today. mom put two notes on the fridge today. one "things i appreciate" . the other "things i try not to get upset about". at the end of the second note she goes "PLEASE HELP! EVERYONE! --and do not pass this off as CRAZY mom (or i will _go_ crazy!)" this has gotten to be a normal occurance around here. everyone always expects mom to threaten to have a nervous breakdown. and everyone always expects mom to maybe one day have one. i try to do all the little things that keep her nerves from going all over the place, but then there is always one little something or two little somethings that she complains about, and . i du no.. all i can say is, i'll move out as soon as i can, ma. until i can, i'll try to leave you alone and not get on your nerves. and that seems to be how everybody feels. 'cept dad, the whole thing just makes him feel like he isn't doing enough. like he is a bad husband. maybe like jamie , telemacher.

last night i dreamt a dream and remembered it.

that brittney and i were going to the doctor, brently was taking us,. i suppose he was going to drive us home afterwards. .. she looked like brittney, but i was talking to her like she was roxy. i was rambling about something that'd happened to us (me and roxy) earlier in the dream, as if it were a long time ago event. kept saying, 'don't you remember?' trying to get her to remember THAT day, when all of THAT happened . ramble ramble rambling,then everything blacked out, like when the doctor tells you to ramble (usually in numbers) so he can know when the anesthesia is kicked in, and the last thing you remember is rambling. then i see brittney , a shot from the waist up, laying on a cot. she is tired looking, pale, like after a surgery. it whites out, like a movie. then i see her point of view, looking down at her legs. i know she's (i can feel what she feels) "been fixed" (tied tubes) cos she (i) feel a little pain, like after a surgery, like something is gone. it whites out, like a movie. then i see my face, the same expression as hers, . it whites out, like a movie. then i see , ((((looking down at my legs, the doctor is just finishing, i know i can't have children. there are stats of this particular operation flying through the air behind the doc's head, like the numbers in time square, i feel like we're being studied by up and coming docs. i feel terribly sad, like i've just had an abortion. and i feel the little pain, like something is gone, like after a surgery. )))) this is all in one moment.

i look around and notice that there are four of us young girls. four of us on white cots, in hospital gowns. there are really many many more of us in the room, but i see four. one of us is sitting up at the end of her cot. holding her knees. crying. in fetal position. this girl has just had an abortion. i take my pillow, crawl over , put the pillow behind her head, and try to hug and cover her with my arms, like her mother. and we are all so sad. and i think the whole time, brently is in the next room , watching on.