February 13th, 2013
It's been a while since I wrote in my diary. So I may be a little rusty. Here we go. I only have one night to live. I have rabies. I don't know for sure if my dog bit me. I don't think so, but he was licking my face a few days before his rabies manifested. After looking up rabies on the internet I now know that I have it. I have all the symptoms. I will be dead by tomorrow. I don't know what will happen to me. I might fade into nothingness. I may go back into some lady's giant vagina and live there forever. My body will most likely just be slowly eaten away by maggots. I don't know if it even matters. But I'm scared. And more than that I'm disappointed in the life that I have lived. I'm a coward and a phony. I've allowed people to push me around, tell me who to be, make me feel guilty for who I am. I'm ashamed that I haven't been able to stand up for myself. That being said I'm going to live this last night to the fullest i can. That sounds so cliché. But I think sometimes clichés can run true if you're in a situation (life/death) like mine. Every day I sit outside the music room and listen to Beethoven play his songs. It's kind of been my secret escape from the bullshit life I lead at this school. We haven't been friends in a while. It’s my fault. I haven't really spoken to him in high school. I guess we just fell into different lives. I have always had this vibe about Beethoven ever since we were kids. We would communicate so much through such little actual speaking. It's like we've been able to read each other’s minds. Like kindred spirits. Ugh. God that’s so lame. I don't know if he feels that way. But tomorrow i will be rabid and subsequently put to sleep. Before I die I want to say something to him. Not sure what or how he will react. Maybe apologize. Maybe just catch up. I don't know. I just feel compelled to say something to him. Because listening to him play every day at lunch has gotten me through a lot of bad times over the last three years. Ah. Maybe that's what I’ll tell him. Wish me luck. And Godspeed. I wish I had written in my diary more often because all of a sudden I feel better. Go figure.
~ CB.
It's been a while since I wrote in my diary. So I may be a little rusty. Here we go. I only have one night to live. I have rabies. I don't know for sure if my dog bit me. I don't think so, but he was licking my face a few days before his rabies manifested. After looking up rabies on the internet I now know that I have it. I have all the symptoms. I will be dead by tomorrow. I don't know what will happen to me. I might fade into nothingness. I may go back into some lady's giant vagina and live there forever. My body will most likely just be slowly eaten away by maggots. I don't know if it even matters. But I'm scared. And more than that I'm disappointed in the life that I have lived. I'm a coward and a phony. I've allowed people to push me around, tell me who to be, make me feel guilty for who I am. I'm ashamed that I haven't been able to stand up for myself. That being said I'm going to live this last night to the fullest i can. That sounds so cliché. But I think sometimes clichés can run true if you're in a situation (life/death) like mine. Every day I sit outside the music room and listen to Beethoven play his songs. It's kind of been my secret escape from the bullshit life I lead at this school. We haven't been friends in a while. It’s my fault. I haven't really spoken to him in high school. I guess we just fell into different lives. I have always had this vibe about Beethoven ever since we were kids. We would communicate so much through such little actual speaking. It's like we've been able to read each other’s minds. Like kindred spirits. Ugh. God that’s so lame. I don't know if he feels that way. But tomorrow i will be rabid and subsequently put to sleep. Before I die I want to say something to him. Not sure what or how he will react. Maybe apologize. Maybe just catch up. I don't know. I just feel compelled to say something to him. Because listening to him play every day at lunch has gotten me through a lot of bad times over the last three years. Ah. Maybe that's what I’ll tell him. Wish me luck. And Godspeed. I wish I had written in my diary more often because all of a sudden I feel better. Go figure.
~ CB.