"hello. I have herpes! glad to meet you," my face seems to say to every passerby. and this is san francisco, where having had sex is supposed to be ok.
I guess I am getting the slightest taste of what it is like to have any obvious chronic condition that announces itself immediately upon appearances. a neon sign flashing diseased! diseased! diseased! and here I never even leave my room and haven't had sex for eight years. I kid you not. eight years it's been and I don't care if I ever have it again. I've tried it a number of times and it has yet to work out well for me. it only took four doses of lsd for me to learn not ever to do that again.
ugh. if I have to wake up to angry little red knots on my cheek again tomorrow well I just might scream.
scream I tell you.