An Easy Sleepy Sort of Morning

Okay, so it doesn't really count as morning. I guess technically it does, but not enough.

I make my trip today. And I have like six different scenarios in my head (at the moment, I'm sure there's more) and for some reason the house in my head is a combination of Beverly's and Sam's.

The bottom part of Beverly's heart has stopped beating.

She's going to die soon.

And I'll be expected to go to the wake.

And I am sad that she has to die, but she is old. And I know it will not make me cry. Because I was never that close to her. And she tried to buy me off. And I just can't. I hate people like that. I don't want to be bought. It's an impossibility. As soon as you start giving me money and buying me things, I cut myself off. I don't like it. I may in fact hate it. But I'll never refuse the stuff I get. Once it's been established that this person does not want a real relationship, why not let them buy you whatever you want?

Wow, isn't that terribly manipulative? Not really, in the sense that both parties know that the relationship is for nothing but show. Because everyone cares so deeply about what other people think of them.

I wonder who found me when I was face down in a parking lot? Guess next time around I'll have to think about what I say before I run my mouth.

It's so beautiful out. I want to enjoy the sun.

But first, I'm guna need a body bag...