My cough seems to worsen every day. Sometimes I think I’m dying. It’s just allergies. Five o’ clock in the morning but my day has just begun. Tonight (last night) I bought a bottle of rum and made candles for Christmas presents. I am trying to sober up. My head still rests under my mother’s roof and with her being an early riser, I must stay within the confines of my room. In her presence I still feel like I am fourteen. The dizziness is relentless but I refuse to let the sickness get the best of me. I have taken one shot too many. Maybe I’ll watch my friend battle the computer in an intense game of solitaire.
December 19, 1999