Kitazawa Yuki (sharpandchrome) wrote,
Kitazawa Yuki

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Techno Cocaine

Dear God, my head is positively throbbing. Migraine would put it mildly. I had the misfortune of working a double shift today -- I'm in the second half -- but was lucky enough to be given subjects to file rather than deal with customers. Still, researching might be something to calm me.

The headaches I have been receiving start at the temple then work to my forehead.

Writing is a slow process, and even slower considering the absence of my most valuable asset at the time. I’m furious with Seguchi for keeping it, yet I would expect no less of the man. I deserve the worst.

But what’s the bordering line between repenting and masochism? I can’t tell.

In a rage over my last few paragraphs, I had the notion to dice up the inside of my thighs and use the blood to write; this had often worked for me in the past. Even now, the faint scarring still remains on my hands: diligence, devotion, suffer, and excellence.

My prescription ran out, and I’m looking at the face of a terrible hospital bill. I called to inquire about what could be done in terms of financing it and they lowered the visit by seventy-percent. Still, I have to make payments for about four months. Electricity will be cut to a bare minimum; I will use flashlights and candles as much as possible. As well, it’s back to cold showers, or using the kettle to heat water for baths.


For a second I swore I saw Llian in here but when he turned around the ‘he’ was really a ‘she.’ I wonder how he’s doing aside from the investigation I did of his webpage.

In the midst of all this I almost called him but halfway through dialing I hung up. What do you say? “Hey, it’s me, Yuki, and I’m not dead”? “I’m sorry” isn’t ever enough.

I miss him terribly.
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