i thought maybe we could strike up a conversation

Ugh.

I have a sister. That's what my post two back is about. I apparently have a sister, a baby who my mother had when she was 15 and gave up for adoption and finally, now, when she was 34, fould us. And we all, the three of us, had an amazing day together in Boston full of good food and shopping and coffee and now, apparently, my mom thinks she's crazy and doesn't want anything to do with her and I love her and want her in my life and this is bad. bad. bad. bad.

I'm listening to The Moon and Antarctica and I still love it as much as I did when I was in middle school.

The other morning, a particularly bad morning, which found me crying for no reason in Nick's bed, his roommate was playing Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset from downstairs and I could hear it in his room through the walls.

It's amazing how much Modest Mouse has influenced my life and been there for me and....

I don't even know. I can't express myself properly right now. Or ever lately. I'm incomplete. Disjointed. Quiet. Yelling. Starting fights. Disagreeing. Making sense. And not making sense. I'm not even making sense right now.