"it's cold"
My first lucid thought and the best I got is.. "it's cold"? I need to eat something soon.

Living on the street hasn't really been that great. heh. Understatement of the fucking year. I haven't seen or heard anything from anyone. Well, what did I expect? It's not like they can call me or run to my apartment and tell me the news. Wasn't that the point of being here though? Can't screw anyone else up if they can't even find me.

I DID see Mark the other day with that same old camera. He looked right at me, even recorded me but didn't recognize me. I must look like hell by now. I haven't showered in weeks and I haven't eaten since I found that McDonalds bag a couple days ago. Hell, the "man" didn't know it was me either. I had to actually REMIND him. He USED to know me even when he was as high as a kite.

The other thing about the streets. I am dead broke. I should have planned this a tad bit better. But at the time, I just wanted to die.. Isn't that what I want still? I mean, I thought it was, but now I am not so sure. If I really wanted to die then why am I still feeding myself?

The weird thing about this whole situation is that I have managed to stay cleaner here then I ever did with Roger. I have been clean for weeks now, and that's a record for me. The man offered to let me pay for it using other "ways", but I turned him down. I will NOT become another one of his drug whores EVER again. I have to prove that I can stay clean, for him.

I wonder where he is right now. I could try going to the loft and asking Mark, but to be honest I feel like shit. I could barely stand up to try to find food this morning, let alone travel to the loft and back. And knowing Mark, he wouldn't let me back out of his sight. There's not much he could do really. I haven't taken anything since... well since I left.

I know that I must be dying, whether I want to or not. The only thing I want to do now is see him. I want him here when I leave, I want to say goodbye. Without a yelling match.
Unlike at Angel's funeral.

I had a dream about her last night. WE were back at the Life after Maureen's protest. Mark was filming us, Roger was holding me, and her and Collins were kissing on top of the table, much to Benny's dismay. Everyone was together again, and then the dream got darker. I dreamed I was back in the hospital with Angel. It was the last time she and I got to talk without everyone else being there. I was upset about Roger and she was trying to help...

"But what if he really doesn't love me Angel? Why can't he just tell me?"

"Hun, its Roger. He has to be the Drama Queen. Besides, he doesn't need to say anything. It's all in his eyes. You can read his every mood through his eyes. Just give him some time Mimi chica, you'll see. He'll be back. He will always come back to you." That's all she had said. She and started to say something else, but she had fallen back asleep again. She looked so peaceful, and maybe.. Happy?

And then she woke up.. Back to this living hell where he hadn't "come back"

This old guy keeps looking at me. It's kind of freaky really. Aw hell, here he comes. With a church mission shirt. Don't these people know when to give it up?

"Hey there, you look like you could use a warm meal and a quick clean up. The church across here is having a tiny soup kitchen dinner in the spare room."

Apparently NOT.

Aw here come the puppy eyes. There green, like Roger's. If I did go.. Maybe it would help him. Make him feel warm and fuzzy inside for helping some piece of trash in the park.

"Come on, it's just across the street."

Groaning... I sit up... too quick. Fireworks explode in my head.. Pretty.. But painful. After a couple minutes I finish pulling myself up and stare at him. Well.. here we go again...