Went to a concert last Thursday. Santos Inocentes and Icaro Azul were the bands. It was great until a little pixie fuck pushed me into the mosh pit. There are different types of mosh pits as anyone who has gone to a Guns N' Roses vs. a Pantera concert knows. I got pushed into a Pantera-type mosh pit. Twenty burly guys throwing punches around and I was trying to hang on to someone so as not to fall. If I fell, I was dead. If some fist found my nose, I would die too. I survived, only a sprained thumb for my worries. When I got back at the pixie, she was so out of it, she enjoyed it.

Worrying myself to the ground. Worrying about things that I am powerless to change, worrying about my best friend's silence and her mailbox is full to capacity. I am terrified of calling and finding out something happened. The holidays suck as they have done ever since I was 10 when I first received clothes instead of toys. Scratching through my scalp down to my brain thinking about how cold makes some people nestle closer for the warmth. Someone else is warming him up for me.

I am a selfish nut who needs to physically and mentally restrain herself so as not to let the id run free. Always the super-ego gets what it wants. And I don't want the super-ego to win this time. So I sit beside my ego and we talk about things in circles, round and round. Ego breaks down and cries because it is friends with the three of us, but super-ego never lets id have its way. And what id wants now is the one thing it has always wanted, the one thing it has been willing to give up other things for. Now id is coming for a payback and superego is terrified of losing control. As for me: I am on my way to damnation. I already bought the plane tickets.