Glass (Crank 2)

for that matter. After looking at

Grade E’s ten-watt crank, I want

a toke of my hundred-watt ice.

And I don’t want to share it. It’s

my birthday. I don’t have to share,

do I? Hey, it is my birthday. At

last, today, I’m the big one-

eight, so why don’t I feel any

different? Because I’m still

treading quicksand, that’s why.

Okay, I need to get high, totally

out-of-my-head wasted, so I

don’t keep thinking about

the same old shit, only

compounded by all that’s

going on around here, not

to mention hearing about

Adam and having Brendan forced

down my throat [not for real, only

figuratively], all in the space

of twelve hours. Talk about

mega déjà vu, of the not nice

type. Happy fucking birthday

to me. Come on. Let’s celebrate!

Lucky me, I’m [not even close]

almost alone in the house. Mom

ran to the store, Scott ran to

pick up Jake from his [girl-]

friend’s house, and Leigh took

Hunter for a stroller walk around