One day, about four years ago, when I was strung out I stole some perscriptions from my friend's mother. I walked in to her house, and sat down for a few minutes. I asked for a soda, and talked with Nick. He did drugs, but not like me. I was dying. I said I was going to the bathroom and snuck upstairs into his mom's room. Quietly, I dug through the drawers until I heard that familiar shaking sound that came from a pill bottle. I took 33 percocet pills, and 3 demerol's. This wouldn't be that bad, but for one thing. She had chronic back pain, and couldn't get though a day without the painkillers. I didn't even look back. I just walked downstairs and picked up my soda and chatted away with Nick and his mom. Now I can't do shit like that. I feel bad about things. It feels good to be able to feel bad. I'm clean now, but I'm still fucked. I need some serious fucking psychotherapy, although I geuss I lie to shrinks too.

I'm better now. I try to be a good guy, stand up for myself and my friends and what I think is right. That's why this thing with Chris and his friend got to me; I wish I wouldn't do shit like that. Today is another day and I'm just glad I'm still friends with him, even if that is all I can be.

Today is just another day at school. I sat in Calculus today and got so into the problem we were working on. I love Math. I'm such a geek. I used to dream about 3-D geometry problems in my sleep. I can't wait till I go to college next year and can take like three Calc classes and a few probability and stat classes all at the same time. Just spend all day in New York doing advanced math and listening to Berkeley punk rock on my stereo. It'll be beautiful. I still have to graduate this year, though. I put myself on the ballot to be a speaker at graduation today. I got up in front of the class and explained why I want to speak. It was short and all I really said was that I've changed a lot at Urban High School and I understand better than most what makes this place amazing. It's not the fact that they don't send home our grades, that neither we nor our parent don't know them. It's not the fact that it's supposed to be an 'artistic' school. It's not even that it's in the middle of the Haight Ashbury district. No it's amazing and horrible because of all the people here. When I applied here four years ago I thought all the people were so 'different,' so cool. And it's true. But not true in the way I thought then. The school is pretty homogonous, maybe less than other schools, but nonetheless everyone's pretty similar. But when you really get to know someone, when you can truly understand where they are coming from, even if they don't know, at that point you get to know their differences. At this place, those differences are what make Urban a beautiful place. It's Emily's 'invisible' braces, which she uses because she thinks she'll look like a model afterwards. It's Mac's belly, which he is kind of embarassed about, but which is still a cute like a baby is. It's Tom not going to class on Mondays, ever, once he got in to Columbia last year. It's everyone thinking they are fuck-ups, and trying so hard. I hate it, but I do it to, and I love it. I wish I wasn't so self-conscious.

�