February seems to be the worst of months.
So much loss, so much pain, all bundled up in a package that screams "You thought this year would be different?"
I'm starting to lapse back into my old habits; eventually, I know it'll surmount to nothing good.
But at this point I have very, very little left to lose.
I would look at the future with optimism but all hope has been revoked by the pending order of the court because apparently I'm punishable for another man's faults.
According to them, human mistake and missing about four days of school merit probation.
And in lieu of this invasion of lawsuits and court house visits, of legal papers with my name caps-locked and letter blocked, I, BLAKE MACKENZIE WILKERSON, am having a breakdown.
Do I need sign papers? Do I have a right to remain silent? Should I wait until my lawyer that has been provided for me that will get paid regardless of the outcome so he can tell me what I already know?
For all my life, I've built my life on this fragile, thin ice.
And I know that humans weren't made to survive in this Subarctic temperatures.
But I adjusted, and I am, or I was, because everything is falling apart,
And it's melting.