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Let's not and say we didn't.

Was supposed to meet my mom at the hospital about now to offer support until she goes in for surgery. Various problems, including an inability to contact her, her friend taking her to the hospital, and my step-dad who might know what I need to know, have made this rather difficult. Never mind my headache which wants to be a migraine or my having overslept like a dumbass.

I feel like a total heel. This is only shored up by my recent inactivity with respect to school. Good God, Tavis is slipping. Can he turn it around? Can he make up for his mistakes? Fuck forgiveness. Can things be fixed--at all?

Small consolation, and likely a neat piece of mental defence: The aesthetics of disaster, destruction, and misdeeds have a certain horrible appeal for me. They are beautiful in their way. Thus do I marvel at myself, wondering at the neat little hole I am digging.
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