There's a lot of honesty in this place. Read the above nodes, man.

I've never felt what a possible miscarriage is like. I don't know Douglas Adams, or his work. I know about his work, but I've never read it. Even so, I feel the feelings people speak of in these Day Logs. I'm impressed at the empathy.

Right now: just lit a cigarette, it's hanging out of the right side of my mouth, and I keep having to move my head so the smoke doesn't go in my eye. I inhale deeply, and try to make intricate designs with the smoke. The Badger, by The Tea Party is on. It's instrumental, and I know how to play it in its entirety. T's on her way home. Looks like we may break up, after three years and a daughter. Hurts like hell, people, it really does. But we're both of the opinion that we've got to work this thing out, so we're going to try our best.

The Badger is over. Now it's Pinch Me, by Barenaked Ladies.

A car-driving song, in my opinion. Not much of an opinion, given that I'm a broke-ass motherfucker with no car. I'm really tired, too. Last night, I held T while she cried. Almost hysterical crying, I might add. Got about two hours of sleep. Tonight, we're both going to sleep well, I know it. The approximate list of what's wrong with us is way too long to go into a Day Log, so I won't. Suffice it to say, however, that we're different people. But who wouldn't be? It's been three years. I just hope we can salvage something. I want that more than anything right now.

Go ahead. Call me a pussy. Call me a bitch. But I cried for at least an hour today. At least. It was probably more like and hour and a half. Alia had no idea what was going on, and she showered me with kisses. That, after a time, made me feel better.

Sliver, by Nirvana.

It's so odd how one's emotions can drift from one thing to another when one is not feeling too well about something. I find myself drifting from feeling bad that T's hurt, to malice for hurting me so much, to slight happiness, that maybe she'll have a better life if I'm not in it. Underneath all of this is my intense, undying love for her. It fills every little bit of my being, and I can only think of the smiles I've gotten, of the way she laughs, of walking hand-in-hand to McDonald's when we felt as if we wanted to gluttonize ourselves. Is that what real love is? When they fill every bit of you, when that person seems to have no faults, if only for a short while.

I know we can get through this. You too, zgirll. Though our situations differ, you can get through yours.

Lady, Your Roof Brings Me Down, by Scott Weiland.