Lord Kill the Pain...

Ah the Red House Painters. Seriously...how can a guy be that depressed for that many years and not have killed himself? Well...his words ring true right now.

My penis is broken again.

You might recall the somewhat hellish/horrific/terrible experience I had somewhat recently that involved surgery and my genitalia. Well...guess what? It hurts when I pee again! Hooray! I went to the urologist today and I'm now on antibiotics (again) and I will have to go back in a week to have some minor dialation done in the office. That's a nice way of saying, "We're gonna put some stuff inside your urethra, then expand those things. It's gonna hurt...allot." Oh joy. And if that doesn't work...I get to have surgery...a-frickin-gain.

I'm getting really tired of this.

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On a completely different note...it's amazing how something like a song can bring you back to an earlier time in your life. It can suddenly cause emotions in you that you haven't felt in a long time, and maybe never wanted to feel again. Or maybe things that you never wanted to feel again because you were afraid of them, but in reality they are things that you need to face. Inner demons if you will. I am suddenly sitting in my dorm room, in the dark, with my headphones on, a phone call just ended, the room dark and I am the only one left awake. I am suddenly crying silently to myself again, a sense of deja vu since this happaned weekly. I am suddenly staring blankly at my computer monitor which is the only light in the room. I am suddenly afraid to go to bed again because that's possibly an even lonlier place than I am at right now. And I am suddenly snapped out of this waking dream and reminded that this is only a memory. One that I will never be able to get rid of.