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i'm bloody defective, har har har...

Well, last night was the hardest night I've had in a long time concerning my hypoglycemia. The doc says it's because i'm changing perscriptions but I don't know, I suppose I'll trust the woman but if it gets me killed i hope that one of my friends will either kill her out of revenge or sue her for neglect of duty and giving me a faulty perscription. I couldn't even walk by the end of the night I had to be carried to bed and watched all evening. It's so lame too, because I've done everything that I've done in the past, to get some quick sugar I drank some soda and had a pbj sandwich. Didn't work so I drank some gatorade and ate some crackers and dehydrated fruit... still, no dice. I feel really mortal.

My mind is still being a chunkmonger. Telling me that all the things that matt has ever said we'll do are going to remain as words. He won't come up here to visit, at least not soon I don't think. He might genuinely want to, hell, he might even ask, but Shane won't let him use his car. I really don't think his mom would let him drive up to minneapolis at random either. He may even look into greyhound but I don't think he has enough money. I wish there was a way I could prove the sincerity of his statements, or at least find out his motives for making them. How pathetic is it that my mind doesn't trust compliments?

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