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Home arrow Words arrow 2002 arrow Words, August 2002 arrow 49 minutes of my time
49 minutes of my time Print E-mail
Written by Diana, on 27-08-2002 13:21
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August 27, 2002 (12:21pm)
I'm fuming, I'm absolutely fuming. The facilitator let the new people who came to group late talk first rather than the people who have been here all day and weren't given time to process yesterday. She's only proving to me that I'm not worth shit. It's this one girl's last day also and I'm really going to miss her. Then one of the new girls talked about being sexually harassed and assaulted. I couldn't decide if I wanted to cry or scream or both so I just tried to blend into the furniture, more so than I already had. Now I'm here waiting for my therapist rather than having one last lunch with the girl who's leaving, I probably won't even get back in time to chat with her before group. Life sucks, I mean like an F5 tornado sucks up debris from the ground, like a black hole sucks up all matter and destroys it while sending it back in time. Life sucks like an empty church confessional on Sunday afternoon. I mean the sucktitude factor seems to multiply with each second that passes in silence, it triples with each syllable a person speaks with due consideration for the conversations I'm not involved in. I wish that I could do some harm, serious visual harm just to help express. Words don't even begin. 27 minutes angered, pressing, hollowed out silence. 29. I'm really not worth shit am I? I was just being dramatic before to get my point across but now...I'm not so sure. 31. Screw the "lunch" I planned to eat, I just don't care anymore. 33. Fuck it all, life...didn't seem that promising anyhow. 38. "Just one more minute please." Sure, take your time. 39. I'm fine. Really. 40. I enjoy this idle time. 41. Gives me time to think, to ponder life's inadequacies. 42. Life's...span. 43. Its usefulness. 44. Or lack thereof. 45 minutes lost to say goodbye. 46. To grieve. 47. They're probably standing back and laughing at my worthlessness. 48. My stupidity. 49 minutes of my time. They're testing me. 50. Trying to make me crack, lose control. 51. But worthlessness aside, there's really no place to hide.

Last update: 27-08-2002 13:21

Published in : Words, 2002, August

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