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man, i really miss having graphics. i don't know, call me silly, but i think it's kind of integral to the feel of a page?

once again, i feel like bawling. but of course, i don't have it in me. my pee has been dark and rank and i think i'm just a wee bit dehydrated or something. it HAS to be something. i spent some of the weekend removing stinky chunks of "stuff" from my throat...i don't know if i'm the only documented case of "stinky-chunks-of-stuff-coming-out-of-tonsils" but so far i haven't been able to find like sufferers. apparently, they are just "what happens" when i've suffered an infection. i call them "concentrated bad breath/sick breath" because they are devestatingly gross. hork hork spit. add 20 minutes to bathroom routine.

my arms are sore already. i think they know they will have to spend another full day attempting to churn out the history essay, now a week late. what have i done? what have i gotten myself into...another mess. now i'm a little scared because i'm out of cigarettes and would like to buy another pack. bad. bad bad bad, i'm *not* a smoker, no.

i called my mother last night to ask if she had talked to my brother. you know. the one who's supposed to be moving out...by the end of this week. who's not going anywhere, by the looks of it.

my mother told me that's she's going away for two weeks. because she's having a nervous breakdown. she hit grandpa over the head with her Time magazine (my mother's weapon of choice?) and dreams of smashing his head against the marble table top. funny. i used to have the same fantasies. as i crushed up another of his pills to put in his coffee. she's not telling anyone where she is going...and i think i find this burst of autonomy really frightening. it just doesn't make sense! but at the same time...absolutely.

my father is coming home from bangkok for two weeks because he didn't like my mom's plans to put g-pa in a home for the two weeks. "you can't to that," he said. then he tried to get my brother to do the job, then his sister...fobbing off responsibilities again and again. it's funny; i thought the death of Pani would have made him snap out of it a little. then again, the death of his sister didn't make him any better. my screaming at him didn't make him any better. i'm resigned to believe that nothing will. a certain faith in rationality and logic and humanity is dying in me now.

the V. family is dying, each one of us. why don't we commit family suicide together in our country home, rid the earth of the name for good, wash away our existence? there has to be a better approach than the one we're taking now.