There were some somewhat shriveled grape tomatoes in the refrigerator. Still technically edible, but too shriveled for purpleglitter to eat and I detest eating tomatoes whole.

I know there are plenty of animals around that would love them, so I went out to the fence at the end of the driveway and threw them into the backyard sometime after 2am. I didn't throw them all at once so as not to make a loud noise.

After one throw that reached the trees near the back fence, I heard high pitched yellings and hissings of complaint. I'm guessing the opossum I've previously seen skulking about was in the brush and got nailed by a tomatoe. Grape tomatoes are small and are unlikely to have actually injured the opossum, so the interaction was simply humorous. Maybe eating the tomatoes will make up for getting nailed.

Went on a walk late last night. Left the house at 3:00am. I was dressed in my long velvet black dress, with flowing lace sleeves. A hit of red hid under more lace in the front. I packed my purse with various pills and a bottle containing a mixture of Nyquil and Robitussin in it.

Various places to actually take the pills came in mind. I decided upon the hill by the swings purpleglitter and I used to go to.

Immediately after crossing Mill Brook I was accosted by the foot stomping of a skunk. I ran the other way, into a driveway. I remained in the driveway for about 5 minutes, until I was sure the skunk was gone.

While waiting, I decided I should leave purpleglitter a message before I take the pills. I walked up to the Arlington Heights Bus Terminal to use the phone there. Instead of actually calling I kept looking at the pill bottle.

Why I actually didn't take the pills as intended I do not know. There were a lot of possible factors.

Fear, of course.

I'm don't really want to die. It's more that I don't want to live. I don't like life, things aren't going to improve, and death seems like a good option.

No individual thing I had was particularly lethal, not even the mix of Robitussin and Nyquil as it was mostly Robitussin. I was hoping that taking a great many things together would do the trick. However, I was afraid that if I took everything it would just make me extremely fucked up. The police would find me the next morning and take me into the hospital.

I went home when the lightning started up again. Unfortunately, I didn't bring a key with me. merryperseis had locked me out. I didn't want a key, because, I thought not having one would help me not chicken out.

merryperseis's light was still on, but I didn't want to knock and wake up the other roommates. So, I threw some of the pills I'd brought at her window. Apparently, they didn't make enough noise, as she didn't hear them. I ended up getting in through a window around 4:30am.

merryperseis and I had some good talks for sometime in the kitchen. She's a really wonderful person, and I'm glad she's living with us.

However, I'm still not sure that suicide isn't a good option for me. I'm not sure that it is, either. I'm scared and confused and just don't know.

I do have to learn the lessons of my last two "attempts". I need to give up the notion of a "romantic" suicide, and just do it. I am not brave enough. It's not that I don't want to die, it's just that I lack courage. Probably should just do it completely drunk. Alcohol can make up for the bravery I lack. I wanted to stare death down sober, but apparently that is not in the cards. I can't do it. Pathetic, yes. But who cares?

Another issue I need to rectify is getting some quality lethal pills in my possession. The stupid shit I have is not going to cut it. There are plenty of appropriate things over the counter. I don't want to accidentally live, end up in the emergency room and then the psych ward.

I'm up! Got up about two hours ago. How the time flies! I have a feeling I should right my schedule to something more "normal", but I don't know why.

The jocks on the floor below us are having a party. There party isn't loud, and even if it was, I wouldn't complain. I'm slightly afraid to go outside, however, lest one of their jock friends decides to do something rather nasty to me.

I can hear them peeing again in the alleyway/driveway that runs between this house and the next. We have to walk through that to get to Lake's car.

What is it, anyway, with jocks and peeing? They seem to take great joy, especially when drunk, at peeing where ever they please. It's as if they're marking their territory or something.

Jocks (and other varieties of overly-macho guys) are easily manipulated. About 5 years ago, I knew this skinhead named Joel. Lake and I got him to squirt Banaca up his nose. We didn't ask him, all we said was we were too afraid to. In response to our little experiment he grabbed the Banaca, squirt-squirt, then cried out in pain.

Another jock is now peeing.