The Hit

December 17, 1998


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