I always thought that the most glamorous addiction of them all was pills--a posh little pink-heart pillbox full of optimism. I hear they're more fun with a concurrent addiction, like, say, alcohol.
The funniest part is that I'm ignoring calls. Important calls. Someone's sick and dying, rotting away from his spine outward. I was supposed to have dinner with him. It's Mother's Day and mine has called me severally. I'm stargazing into my mattress, happy to be breathing.
Do boys like silly girls like me, ever? Girls who don't exist?

Labels: girls, pills