on death, or, day 3 of 4

i know its just the adderall, or i think its just the adderall, or maybe its a combination, but i feel completely, totally numb right now.  i had never realized, that when you put your mind to it, school work can function as an incredible distraction during moments of major life crises.

maybe i'm being slightly melodramatic.

these moments are deeper and darker than ive experienced in a long time.

i'm lying in my bed at 130 in the morning with the window open, watching the moon..

cut too, ive retreated to the end of my bed, curled up in a ball, sobbing with fear, with terror as full realization of the extent of alex's intent on self destruction and the drug addiction that lead him there is seizing my whole body, tears long since dormant spilling down my cheeks and i cant stop trembling , i'd been trembling all night and now i'm aware of what it was foreshadowing, aware of just what was necessitating the reserves of inner strength i'd been storing up all day,

"sorry i cant explain now but i love you thanks for beingby there for me.  i will always remember that you were willing to help me."

even now, just typing it out, brings a tightness to my chest, warm tears welling up within my eyes caught in eternal stare.

upon waking this morning, i was in a daze. sobbing at my kitchen table, for what felt like hours, i finally dragged myself to yasis, showered (we're still without hot water at my house, of course) and then, adderall in tow, dissolved into the confines of the library, writing writing writing writing writing.

now, my kitchen table.

self inventory.

in the past three days i've eaten, one bowl of rice.  two pieces of bread.  a handful of pretzels.  a mug of microwaved edamamae.

smoked three packs of cigarettes.

all of my muscles ache.

my eyes are still red, from prolonged crying, cigarette smoke, and lack of sleep.

somewhere, wind chimes are sounding.

i'm not sure where my emotions are.  all i can feel, right now, is nausea.

yasi tells me i can't let my guilt over my relationship with alex trap me into feeling like i have to save him from himself.  that pressure was part of what drove me to leave him, after all.  but how do you sit back and watch the boy you've known since you were 15, made love to and cried to and held hands with and experienced the pangs of growing up with,  one of the most important influences on the girl you are today, tear himself to pieces, one day at a time.

my mom tells me to remove myself from this situation emotionally, to call his parents, to tell them the extent of the situation, so they can step in, get him help.

i falter, "i want to talk to him, first."

"why?"  she replies angrily "he's a drug addict, jamie.  a legitimate drug addict.  do you want to hear his lies?"

i do.  does that make me selfish?  

god i don't even want to think about this anymore goddamnit alex why can't you just grow up, take responsiblity for yourself for once if anything fucking happens to you, if you hurt yourself, or kill yourself, or get killed, or od.. i really just don't know, what i'll do.

i will be wrecked, i think,  for a long, long time.

maybe the burning in my eyes really in fact is from tears.

school work is a good distraction.  school work is a good distraction.  school work is a good distraction.

there is something gripping about all of them, as if a solitary person strews flowers upon his road of pain, deluding himself that it is a road of happiness.  they are like fresh and broken roses upon which he wishes to tread, while at the same time he is already braiding a crown of thorns for his head.  nietzsches thoughts sounds like a prelude to the shattering drama of his highest ascendance and his downfall.  his philosophy does not completely life a curtain in the drama, but its folds show flower threads and, half hidden, the large sad words,

incipit tragoedia.