schvetybetty

Someone's spamming my buzz!  Links for cheap meds!  Goddammit!
How in the hell?  Why?  Why?!

This Saturday marks the second year since my friend's suicide.  I feel weird.  I've been short-tempered and depressed, and thought it was all about PMS. Yes, that makes it even more...special.  Both of these events snuck up on me.
I've got his ashes still.  I don't want them anymore.  I don't know what to do with them.  I've had some ideas, like making an urn out of his ashes, breaking the fancy one they're in and using the pieces to inlay the words "FUCK YOU" on it.  I've suggested this as a piece for my sculpture class, but it was judged "too personal".  Really.  I ask you. 
I've got to get them out of my closet.  I feel like mixing the ashes with my tears, my piss, my menstrual blood, to make the clay.  That personal enough?
Bastard.