it's not the presence of bad, it's the privation of good.
2004-11-04 @ 9:20 a.m.

i woke up at four oclock in the morning completely out of breath. i think i actually woke myself up by heaving my chest or breathing so heavily - i was dreaming that the building was burning down. in my dream, mike was dead. he had passed away and the firemen and police men were telling me to take what i could carry and get out, because my floor was going to give soon. i kept looking around for something to strike me as important, but i didn't know what to take. i felt like i was leaving mike here in the walls we painted together and the home we've built. i kept wishing they had never seen me, they could have just left me to asfixiate in the smoke and die peacefully. i wanted to be with mike. so in my dream, i was curled up on the floor of our bedroom, with my legs under me, crying and crying and crying. just sobbing. and then i woke up, and mike was looking at me. i was so relieved.

gauche_____drop_____gauche_____drop_____gauche_____