i am typing from bed - completely prone. it is amazing, how well you can know the keyboard. and the ways that you can maneuver a laptop. and the things that you feel that you need to document when you feel that you could possibly be dying.
common sense says that i probably will wake up tomorrow. if i ever get to sleep. i am so terrified of dying in my sleep that i probably will stay awake. insomnia. i feel a really killer migraine coming. stress. medicine. receptors. my body is amazing.
earlier today, i stood up, got really dizzy and threw up. since then, i've had really strange chest pains and heart palpitations and weird body pain and arm pains. and my neck hurts, but in a weird pre-headache way. every time that i lift my head, i feel like i'm going to pass out. or throw up. or both, at the very attractive same time. and it hurts behind my left knee and my right eye.
i have been lying completely flat for hours and hours. but i can't sleep, of course. my pubic bone, i have found, makes an excellent rest for this laptop. my hands know the keyboard, even from this awkward and far away angle. no worries. i will type this outl
at first, and again, i was scared that i would die alone. a lot of times over the course of this sickness, that has been my first thought. oh my god, i will die alone. but then i realize, hey there hoebag, you've got videos of you sucking dick on your computer and a vibrator on your bed. dying alone should be the least of your concerns.
and then, i wonder, again, who i should give the passwords to my blog and myspace and other accounts to. i mean, all these medicines and treatments and procedures...my body is strong but my chances are pretty high at any given time. not to mention, i'm just pretty fucking spacey. i could walk in front of a goddamn bus for christ's sake. i probably wouldn't even feel it, either, all these pharmaceuticals that i'm on. you would think that i would have reached my happy place by now, instead of still being in Cry Town all the fucking time.
anyway, the thing is, i know that i should probably by now have given someone my passwords, so that if anything happened they could log on and be like - she logged off fam.
but, unfortch, i don't trust anyone enough to do that shit. haha. not one person in my life do i trust enough to give that info while i am still breathing. so, i'll either keep posting until i don't have shit to say and then i'll stop and you will assume i'm dead, or i'll die and you'll assume i'm dead and either way, it sucks that i don't even remember why i started typing about this shit in the first place.
dying. alone. my chest. insomnia. my chest hurts. it has been hurting for hours. i'm not quite sure what to do about it at this point. i could go to the hospital. if i die in the night, or if tomorrow it is something major, then of course, all signs will have pointed to Go To Hospital. but, if i make my 80th trip to Cedars-Sinai Emergency Services this year *throws confetti drops balloons brings home souveneir gown* and it ends up being nothing, then i have to throw my prescription bottles of morphine and dilaudid and percocet and every other narcoradical thing at them to prove that i'm not some crackwhore looking to score. somehow, cancer + chemotherapeutic + endometriosis + polycystic ovarian syndrome + follicular ovaries + endometrial cysts + add back therapy never seems to register with them.
anyway, maybe i'm just in need of a swift kick to the head. iono. i only know that if i die alone in this room, i hope to the gods that it's someone who isn't doing to judge me that finds my naked body next to my pink vibrator and steals my laptop that has naked photos of me and videos of me doing things illegal in most southern states.
also, i hope that my books are distributed well and my denim too. oh, and willy d gets my kushy. i probably need to decide who gets my pills - that's what i have most of in the world right now.
now i'm fucking more dizzy than is bearable again.
shit.
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