08.20.03, Entry...

  Dear...dear lord ... forgive me for my horible sins, and--on the
same note (and the same sentence, unfortunately) for my horible
spelling.
 This trend of relentless personal destruction must not continue.
There must be an end to my maddness...and...~sigh~...bad spelling.
   [I refuse to rewrite any of this.  So please
     excuse that many of my sentences will
     end with apologetic sidenotes to the
     darker half of my intelect.  Jesus.]
 I am not on drugs...right now.  Nor have I been for many, many
months, er--weeks--um...days...day...day...maybe a few hours...
Maybe.  Many, many minutes if nothing else...but believe me it's
been a relitivly long time (the whole moving train car bit...except
a good portion of my mind was left sleeping on the benches in the
station.) whew.
 That sounded more like a confessional than a complete sentence!
Huh?  Huhhh?!
 Besides my seemingly endless narcotics binge, life is mostly full
of bleak and arctic despair which--while tasty when spread over
most brand name crackers is pretty much useless when trying to
secure a bank account.
 This has not, however, deadend my will to live.  It has only made
it edible to the many demons which have collected in the side
pockets of my ID over the course of my coming of age (something of
which I am sure should happen before one turns 13...NOT 23!)