The Hit

December 17, 1998

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If tomorrow goes the way today did, it will no doubt send me over the deep end. I’m standing on the edge as it is. When time is my own and I have the opportunity to let go of some of the rage and sadness I carry on my shoulder, it never comes. It’s kind of like the hit. When a toilet is non-accessible you think you’re going to poop your pants, but as soon as you make it to the porcelain throne it’s nothing but a gust of air. Today was one of those days that I ended up pooping all over myself.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist